Episodes
by XCynicalX
Summary: Two strangers meet and set out on a wild adventure together. Hinata, the sweet shy spirit, and Temari, the rebellious temptress. Who knew their trip would have such high risks. They may lose their lives and their freedom? AU.
1. Episode 1

**Episode One**

Notes on: The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn by Mark T-

_**Snap!**_

I began to grow impatient with my pencil after the third time it broke. At the time, I was hesitant to sharpen it because this new teacher of mine had given me his hateful stare more than once since I last got up to use the sharpener. I wished life at a new school wasn't this hard but I knew that it was useless to think of it as anything else.

My tired heavy gaze drifted from my scribbled words and over to the small chip of lead that lay on my lined paper. Even tinier wood fragments peppered the space around it and reminded me that I had nothing to write with. I sighed lightly and swallowed the tightening nervous lump that began to grow in my throat. I raised my eyes and allowed for them to adjust to the blinding lights that loomed above my head. My heart sank into my stomach as it fell into the bottoms of my feet at a brief thought: My old school never had these obnoxious lights. My bottom lip quivered, but only momentarily, as I pin pointed the pencil sharpener that was mounted atop the teacher's desk. The desk I feared to approach where the man I feared to make eye contact with sat patiently waiting for me to need his sharpener again. He saw me wiggle in my chair and sent me that _pleasant_ look of his. He knew what I wanted.

Slowly and cautiously I slid out of my seat with my smashed pencil in hand. My free hand began to quickly iron out the wrinkles in my baby blue cotton skirt and then began to adjust the tiny pearl buttons on my knitted white cardigan. Once satisfied with my attire I elegantly strolled to the head of the classroom, receiving a few giggles and snickers along the way. I ignored my fellow students' mocking remarks and did my best to force a faint smile onto my lips as I neared Mr. Orochimaru's desk.

His bold name tag snagged my attention and I couldn't help but read it for the fifteenth time that day. 'MR. OROCHIMARU' in tall bold white letters was engraved into the dark brown wood that was propped against a large gray pencil holder in the corner of his desk. His pencil sharpener sat at the opposite side with thin shavings littering the area around it; the small golden brown flakes undoubtedly being from my pencil.

Mr. Orochimaru's eyes gaped at me with a wide-eyed gaze. His beady eyes were magnified to the size of china plates as he blinked at me. He cleared his throat, "Miss. Hyuga, do you need my sharpener again?" His course voice scratched at my eardrums, sending shivers down my back and causing my body to tremble. His snake lips grinned and revealed his large pearl white teeth. He reminded me of a cartoon character from an old TV show I used to watch when I was younger.

Timidly I returned the gesture with my own and tilted my head to the side. My dark long hair brushed my checks as I stepped closer to the sharpener. "Why yes Mr. Orochimaru I do. My pencil just does_ not_ want to write today." My soft voice managed to ring through the empty room and reverberated off the blank white walls back to me. I batted my eyelashes tenderly and began to reach for the sharpener.

"Miss. Hyuga," Mr. Orochimaru said, "the next time you come to class, maybe you should be a bit more prepared. Hmm?" As he leaned back in his chair, Mr. Orochimaru's oily black hair caught the glare from the lights over head and shined slightly.

My eyebrow quirked in bewilderment as I froze only inches from the sharpener, "But Mr. Orochimaru I am prepared for class," came my delayed reply. My eyes darted around the room and I began to suspect Mr. Orochimaru and I had a growing audience.

Mr. Orochimaru's finger placed itself in between his eyes and pinched the space between them. Personally I was surprised he hadn't yelled at me yet, after all I was used to it. His slick snake like eyes began to scale me and paralyzed me in anxiety.

"Miss. Hyuga, how many pencils did you bring to class?" he asked me squinting the entire time as he looked up to meet my eyes.

Confused, I stared at him a bit longer and smiled again, trying to make light of the awkward situation. I glanced at my pencil and then back at Mr. Jameson, my reflection in his glassy eyes my only ally. I inhaled sharply, "I only have one, Mr. Orochimaru," the imaginary strength in my voice began to fade.

Holding his glare, Mr. Orochimaru spoke, "Well Miss. Hyuga the _smart_ thing to have done was to bring multiple pencils to class. Not just one." His raspy voice echoed though the room and held everyone's attention as I stood like a statue. Finally he broke our eye contact and gazed right passed me and to another student who was diligently working.

"Mr. Rock Lee," he wheezed.

A frail boy raised his head and his eyes managed to meet with Mr. Orochimaru's through his thick bowl cut. He glanced between Mr. Orochimaru and me and mumbled a: "Yes sir?"

Briefly blinking at me, Mr. Orochimaru directed his attention back to Mr. Rock Lee. "How many pencils do you bring to class?" he asked.

"Three, sir," said the small teenage boy.

As he looked at me again, Mr. Orochimaru gave me that classic cliché smile of his. "You see Miss. Hyuga," he began, "Mr. Rock Lee came prepared to class. Why aren't you?"

I stumbled about my words trying to create my defense. I stuttered out, "Mr. Orochimaru I've just moved here and I'm still trying to find all my thi-"

"Now Miss. Hyuga," he cut me off, "don't use that excuse. Just because you're new here doesn't mean you can't come prepared to class. You seemed to find that nice little outfit of yours amongst your things well enough. It seems you little wardrobe is more important than finding your school supplies." His bitter tone pierced through me and burned, melting away the faint smile that once hung on my lips.

"You deserve no special treatment Miss. Hyuga." Mr. Orochimaru began to fiddle with the pens and pencils in the gray cup that was on his desk. He sighed and met my eyes, "You're no better than anyone here, though you may think so."

I frantically began to shake my head, my long hair swirling around in dismay. "No sir, Mr. Orochimaru, I don't think I'm better," I choked out.

Mr. Orochimaru quirked his mischievous grin and snorted in disgust of my feeble attempts at amends. The other students behind me began to gossip and giggle at my apparent misery. I wanted to cry and bury my head in the ground like an ostrich.

The small whispers and mocking remarks fueled Mr. Orochimaru and urged him to continue. "Miss. Anderson, just because you've moved all the way here from your big house in Konohagakure does not make you special. And your fancy clothes, shoes and hair don't make you more sophisticated than the rest of us either." Mr. Orochimaru pointed at my attire and frowned.

Paranoid, I looked at my clothes and ran my fingers through my hair in a sad attempt to tame any wild fizz or curls. My hands quaked and became knotted in my locks as my other hand meticulously traced over my white sweater for any stay strings. My bottom lips fought to pucker out and quiver, but I bit it down with fierce pain that almost made my already flooding tears form even faster. My vision began to blur and the tacky colors of Mr. Orochimaru's tie began to blend and mix into odd tie-dye swirls. I felt the electric sparks of frustration shoot from my cloudy eyes to Mr. Orochimaru and he absorbed them like food to nurture his ego; my angry reaction being the exact response he wanted. My legs began to wobble and I felt my knees knock together as my hand still clasped onto the pencil that was now about to snap in two from my grip. My throat clenched and my mouth became dry as I struggled to form words, let alone sentences.

Finally swallowing most of my shame, I blinked away a thin layer of tears. "Mr. Orochimaru," I manage to gasp out between my meek breaths, "may I go to the restroom?"

My question amused him as he began to pull out a small torn sheet of paper from a drawer under his desk. Reaching for one of the pens in his jar, his jotted down the date and time then signed his name. He smiled at me and said, "Here you are, Miss. Hyuga."

Quickly I snatched the pass from his tight pinch on it and headed back to my desk to pick up my purse. With my tiny bag in hand I swiftly walked through the classroom's door and turned down the hall. And at this point I began run.

My feet stomped along the white and gray tiles of the school's floors and carried me far down to the nearest bathroom, passed classroom after classroom. My wedge shoes clunked with every step and the faster I went the louder the sound they made. I didn't care. I could care less if a teacher popped their head outside to lecture me about running in the halls, even though I knew better than to do so. It didn't matter. My chest heaved and my heart thundered making my pulse race rapidly. I felt my face burn with the air blowing against it and ripping my hair back from my eyes. My purse dangled from my left arm and occasionally smacked against my leg throwing off my balance and almost sending me face first into the floor. All the power pumping through my body was the best feeling I had had all day.

There was a door at the end of the hallway that read: 'Girls' Restroom'. I slowed to a crawl and trekked over to it. Gingerly I pushed it open and walked inside, letting it swing freely behind me.

The room was small, only holding about two stalls and dimly lit with one tiny light bulb on the ceiling and a dusty window on one of the wide walls. I made my way over to the sink and let my hands rest on the cool sides. My steamy touch was cooled by the icy porcelain of the bathroom's sink. It was almost relaxing until it became too cold to where it numbed my palms. I sighed and ran a hand through my dark blue, almost black hair.

My eyes began to water again and I didn't feel like I had the strength to fight back the tears I knew where so desperate to flow. So I let them. I stood there in front of the sink crying softly to myself and whimpering small murmurs of nonsense that even I couldn't understand. I looked up at the mirror and saw my eyes for the first time. The splotchy burning red contrasted with the light lavender of my irises making them appear to glow.

I unzipped the metallic silver zipper of my small pink purse and shove my hand inside desperately scavenging for my handkerchief. Frantically I searched and my wrist raked across the metal teeth of my bag. My fingers brushed the feather soft fabric of my handkerchief and yanked it free. I immediately went to work dabbing my eyes and cleaning my nose. I sniffled lightly and sobbed even more as I noticed the residue of my Bashful Pink blush on my now tear damp handkerchief.

With a weak attempt I raised my head and gazed into the fingerprint smudged mirror that hung above the molded bathroom sink. At that very moment I felt a pang in my stomach that yearned for a welcoming smile to greet me from the reflection, but nothing could satisfy me. I loathed that tattered face that I was looking at. My face streaked with cried tears and my natural blush now a flustered blood red that made me sick with disgust. I hated looking like a slum and I despised feeling this weak and alone. I was better than my twin in the mirror and I was not raised to act like such a helpless child. My cousin Neji always did say: "You've got a good strong pair of legs; you should get up and use them." So I wasn't going to crawl around my new school anymore like some newborn baby, I was going to walk and I would walk proud.

I then made the decision to fix my problems with Mr. Orochimaru and face my issue head on. If he and I were to continue not to see eye to eye then I should drop that class and be switched. It was as simple as that.

Sniffling once more, I folded my tissue and placed it back in my purse. My make-up was not perfect but it would certainly have to do for now. With one last glance in the mirror I left the bathroom and did my best to navigate where the principal's office was.

I was thankful that it wasn't very far from the bathroom I was in and the office assistants didn't ask me any questions when I requested a meeting with my councilor. They smiled at me sweetly and told me to take a seat in the chairs by the door and wait.

As I sat, I crossed my legs and flattened out my skirt, smoothing away any noticeable folds. I tugged at the sleeves of the white cardigan and gently pulled at my hair to fix it. I pushed my back in and shoulders back while placing my purse in my lap. Father always was strict with manners and public appearances. Father was firm with me about my politeness and how to be a proper lady but it was for the best I'm sure.

My eyes drifted up to meet with the office assistant's once more and I smiled when I saw her. She smiled back at me and looked back down at a report she had to finish writing. She wrote two words before there was a loud bang followed by the shrill voice of a teenage girl.

"I don't need this lecture again!" she cried.

The owner of the voice came around a corner and marched over to the line of chairs beside me. And out of all the chairs in the row, she chose the one right beside my seat. I was a little taken back when she did and I couldn't help but stare at her. She was so exotic that gawking seemed like the most appropriate thing to do, oddly enough.

The girl was about three years older than me, maybe seventeen or eighteen, and she carried herself with such maturity that anyone could have mistaken her for a twenty-two year old. Her body was lean and thin, like a model, and her peach skin glisten under the luminescence of the lights. She had perfectly spiked light blonde hair that had been pulled back into four different pony-tails. Her hair was tight and not a stray hair dared to free itself. She was so sleek and elegant that I became envious of the lack of grace she just displayed with her tantrum. Her misplaced poise and charm held me in a trance that I could not tear away from and still held me there as she turned and looked at me.

Her eyes were such a dark green that they almost appeared navy blue, and those dark orbs held my attention until the awkwardness of the situation forced me to look away. I faced back to the front of the office and struggled not to begin to fidget with my hands.

I heard a light scoff escape those lush lips I saw on her face and I could tell she was laughing at me. Out of the corner of my eye I saw her swing a messenger style bag from her left to her right side and onto the floor in the space between both of us. Her bag fell over scattering her belongings everywhere across my feet and the walk way of the office. A small light weight package slid along the slick floor like a penguin and hit my foot. I looked down to see a box of cigarettes and then to see the girl's long finger encircle around the box and grab it from my view. My eyes widened and I found myself meeting her gaze yet again. I now noticed her elaborate eye make-up that embellished those magically dark eyes.

Thick black painted lines circled her eyes, accenting their cat like shape. The ends of her lashes curled up slightly to make her eyes appear even more dangerously seductive and glamorous. Light brown eye shadow layered the lids of her eyes to make the hints of green flakes twinkle in the light and to also compliment her hair color.

I blushed then, at her cryptic beauty that captivated me and left me in sheer awe of her. She was nothing like me in the slightest. She was so dangerous and alluring that I wanted to reach out and touch her. I was afraid she wasn't real, probably because I had never seen anyone or anything like her in my entire life.

"Hey," she said softly with the pack of cigarettes still in her hand.

I looked at her and saw she was opening the top flap of the box and began to pull a long white stick free. She extended it out to me.

"You wanna smoke?" she asked. She had an odd accent that I couldn't quite place. She sounded as if she may have been from Sunagakure, but with an odd spin on it.

My eyes suddenly grew to the size of dishes and my jaw slightly dropped open. I can't even begin to imagine how silly I looked to her. I shook my head vigorously and couldn't find to courage to actually tell her 'No'.

She slid the offered stick in between her red lips and smiled a devilish smile. Laughing tenderly she gazed at me with a certain protective look, "That's cute," she chuckled.

Another office assistant walked in and caught the older girl beside me with the cigarette hanging lazily from her mouth. She gasped and yelled for the principal to come join her. "She's at it again!" she tacked on. The woman's voice was irritating and I found myself annoyed with her for interrupting us. I wanted to talk to the mystery girl, but I just needed time to work up the nerve to actually speak. The woman walked over to us and signaled for the girl to get up and follow her.

Dropping her smile, she plucked the cigarette from her lips and handed it to the assistant. The yellow filter tip was tainted with the ruby red lipstick that the model like girl wore and the woman slid the stick into her back pocket. The teenage girl stood and walked back around the corner where she came. Before completely turning the corner, she spun around and waved to me as she playfully smiled once more.

And that was how my first day of school went.

I desperately want to know who this foreign outlandish girl is that seems to enthrall me and at the same time be everything that I'm completely against. I'm almost angry at her for being so magical. But how could I be angry at something I don't know? I'm so confused.

I'm surrounded by boxes that tower around me and taunt me, reminding me that they still need to be opened and sorted through. Finding my digital clock I plugged in, I read the time and it says 1:00 AM. I sigh.

I see myself in my vanity's mirror where an assortment of make-up sits organized by shade, from darkest to lightest. I pull out the chair that is slid underneath and I sit facing the mirror. I crane my neck back slightly and admire my throat, long and pale.

My skin is white and ghostly, unlike the other girl's. She was peachy and glorious with her tone muscles and prefect body. I now stand up and untie my bathrobe that hides my figure. I have on a loose tank top and I pull at the back to make it appear tighter around my waist and chest. I examine my body and frown. I'm nothing like her. She was thin and grown up while I'm still stuck in my prepubescent little girl's form.

I reach for a hair tie that is draped across a perfume bottle I stole from my mother's room earlier. I use it to hold back my hair and I look in the mirror some more, posing and pinning my shirt down tightly with my hands. I push my lips out slightly and arch an eyebrow trying my best to be beautiful like the stranger from before. I'm nothing like her.

The loud clacking sound of a stalling engine rips me away from my fantasy and sends a chill to dance up my spine. I dash to my window and peek through a small crease in my blinds I create.

It's hard to make everything out, but I see the faint outline of an old run down car; the light from the street lap a few meters ahead of the car my only visual aid. The interior lights flash on and the driver's door is popped open and the driver steps out frantically. By this point I can see strangely shaped hair and a curvaceous body; it's a woman. She cranes her neck to see her car overflowing with steam from the engine and pouring out onto the road. She slams the car door shut and marches over to the hood of her car. Pulling down the sleeve of her shirt farther to shield her hand from burning metal, she unhooks a letch that holds the hood and allows for it to fly open. Steam explodes from her car like lava from a volcano and she fans the smoke away from her face. Irritated, she kicks the front of her car and curses, her spiky hair bouncing and her hands flying around her.

I watch for a few more moments and study the scene taking place before me. With every move she makes I am able to see her more clearly and her hair is so familiar that the memory still feels fresh. She steps into the glow of the street lamp and I see the face of the girl from the office at school. The cigarette offering mystique being from before that entranced me. She places her hands on the sides of her head and pushes in to contain the raging emotions she was undoubtedly feeling. The frustration on her face was more than apparent as she paced back and forth up the road.

I soon grab my robe and clumsily slip my arms into it as I try to find my bedroom slippers to put on. I tie my robe tightly to protect me from the chilled November air and silently make my way down my home's staircase. I go to the front door and slowly unlatch the deadbolt lock my father put in place. I creak open the door, but stop when a heavy squeak is made. I hesitate then continue to open to door and slide through a small opening I've managed to create. The girl on the street heard the loud door's cry as well and was now staring at me. She recognized me instantly and let her ridged form relax.

I meet her gaze and look away, blushing madly and beginning to make my way down the driveway towards her in the middle of the street.

She's dressed in the same dark clothing from before, everything clinging artfully to her delicate curves. A breeze begins to blow and playfully toys with her hair, sending once obedient stray stands to fly into her face. She pulls them away with one of her hands and forces hair behind one of her ears that is decorated with multiple silver earrings.

I make my way up to her and realize how much taller she is than me. I look up and see her looking back surprised and confused. I smile at her childishly and feel stupid for doing so. She wasn't smiling, so why should I?

She stares at me for a bit longer and we stand alone in silence. She finally breaks the hush with a soft murmur, "What are you doing out here?" she asked. She spoke so quietly that it was almost a whisper. But her voice was like a bell ringing and tugging at my ear, leaving me to hang earnestly on every word spoken.

I honestly didn't know what I was doing out here right now. I wanted to see her. But I pushed aside telling her that. "I heard you break down so I came out to help," I stuttered.

She hears my mouse voice and now smiles. Her dark green eyes meet my lavender ones and she releases a tender chuckle. Weaving one arm over the other, she pops out her hip and lets her weight rest on one side.

I examine her up and down and smile also. I hold my arms close and shiver from the breeze that begins to pick up. "What are you doing out here?" I question.

She turns from me and gazes up at the flickering street lamp. From the lamp's light her golden skin glows even more artfully than before as she takes on the appearance of a goddess from the sun. "Running away," her reply is hesitant but strong. She looks at me for a moment longer then adds, "Do you want to come?"

I'm surprised by her question and even more so by my response, "Yes," I say, never hesitating for a second.

Her lips quirk up in a victorious grin and she reveals to me and glint in her eyes that entices me to jump into her broken down car. Her green eyes sparkle with mock stars and silently tell me 'everything will be fine'.

Cousin Neji used to tell me: "You've got a good strong pair of legs; you should get up and use them." So I'm going to use them and I will stand proud with this new bursting confidence that this stranger has given me. I will no longer crawl through life with my timid fears and worries. I won't walk down the hall of school wondering if my pretty dresses attract the right attention or if my hair is in place. I'm going to run; and I will run far, far, far away. Away from all the pressure I feel weighing on me, breaking my back and taunting me to do more than I can.

"I'm Hinata," I tell her. "Hinata Hyuga."

By now the blonde had pulled out her pack of cigarettes and had placed one in her mouth. A bright yellow flame was lighting her cigarette as she inhaled. Breathing out a gray cloud and she looked at me and stared intently. Her voice was soft, "Nice to meet you Hinata. I'm Temari."


	2. Episode 2

**Episode Two**

My heart flutters softly in my chest and I can feel the fabric from my bed shirt tugging with each heavy thud. My breath becomes scarce and lips dry as I'm scaled by the dark eyes that loom above me, twinkling with the new adventure they know wait in the near future. Blood pumps into my cheeks as my face grows hot with every passing second, as the holder of those eyes smiles. I feel an involuntary curl of my lips pull my mouth into an eager grin, trying desperately to match the one before me.

Temari takes another long drag from her cigarette as she flips her thick blonde pony tails around. She glances behind her and acknowledges her rusty paint-chipped car that sits smoking on the side of the road. She exhales and a thin cloud blankets her face, "My car's sort of shot," she mumbles. Her gaze drifts down as she motions her hand to flick the cigarette free of gray ash. The sunrise tip burns and attracts my attention. I follow the faint light as it moves back to Temari's lips and she draws in another fume of toxins into her lungs. "We might have to take the bus," she says, the smoke pouring from her mouth.

As disgusted as I am with smoking I can't bring myself to be appalled by her. I grip my arms and rub the fabric of my robe to create some friction for warmth. I'm freezing. The brief gusts of November air that blow are bitterly cold and nip my sore red nose.

Temari halts mid-inhale of her cigarette and blows out the small amount she took in. "You're cold," she says almost timidly, "let's go inside." Using her cigarette hand, she points to my house behind us.

My house is large like the others around it, a mansion almost, with the glorious single-hung windows coordinately placed above the various rose bushes that encircle the house. The neighboring Victorian style homes are just as castle like as ours with the tipped roofs and dark shingles to cover them. Every home has a porch that is equivalent to a boat's deck, but only ours wraps around the entire house. My eyes now look about and see the only lit window, my room, in the house. I glance back down and notice that the entry style door is left ajar. Two glass towers decorated with fragments of stained glass to form swirls and patterns, frame the white oak door that is in the center of my porch. The chilly air blows again and my teeth chatter creating the only noise in the silence as the door is creaked open from the breeze.

I whip my head around back to Temari only meeting her gaze with mine for a moment. I'm still too shy to look her in the eyes. I nod my head and whisper a faint "yes," as we begin to trek over to my door.

I go first up the gravel driveway, my feet kicking the mini rocks around and causing them to tumble and jump. My new friend follows me and her feet do the same. The soft hum of sliding rocks and shuffling steps almost sooths the excitement brewing in my stomach. I realize that my palms have become damp with sweat and I rub my hands on my robe to relieve the wet slimy sensation. My breath hitches at the awkward thought of my sweaty hands, and undoubtedly strange appearance as I saunter up my driveway. My cheeks fume with embarrassment.

Quickly I run up the few steps to my porch, skipping every other one and hearing the aged wood squeak in protest to my weight. I turn back to find Temari, inching her way up the steps and giving me a questioning look. Her eyes are wide now as they reflect the yellow glow of a burning cigarette. Carefully I study her eyes that very moment, taking in the sight. The tiny mirrored light was a sun in those dark green pools, a flower on a lily pad. I silently wonder to myself how she can be so mystical without even trying and now I feel an overwhelming envy take hold of me.

My still sweaty soaked hand grips the doorknob and clenches it to its breaking point, or at least as much as my feeble hands can. My eyes never leave her as she nears me slowly, stealing a quick drag as she comes. Temari leisurely exhales the cigarette's smoke and flicks some ash off the side of my porch. I stand motionless and feel the courage to look at her dissolve away and I feel myself almost becoming closed off from reality as I think about what I'm considering doing with her. She quirks an eyebrow and waits patiently for me to push open my door the rest of the way.

Clicking her tongue against the inside of her cheek, she stares at me a moment more. Scratching the top of her head with her cigarette clad hand she asks, "Are we going inside sometime soon?" She blinks and watches me, studying me for some sort of answer.

I gulp and the masses of butterflies in my stomach take off in a fluttering stampede through my entire body, sending shivers through my limbs. I don't want to tell her no, how dare I think such a thing, but I have to. "You'll need to put that out first," I mumble under my breath, pointing to her cigarette. I clear my throat, "It's just my Father can smell one of those things a mile away."

Temari seems almost amused as she hears me speak. I guess it's my mumbling. Taking a long drag, she plucks the cigarette from her lips and swishes around the tobacco flavor, savoring it. She looks at the cigarette in between her long elegant fingers and chuckles lightly. "You know, you have the sweetest voice I think I've ever heard," she says with her eyes still locked on the cigarette. Pausing, she raises the stick to her mouth and takes in another breath of smoke. Tilting her head to the side, she faintly smirks and looks at me with those eyes of hers, dark and beautiful.

I don't move. I stand looking at her with my mouth practically hanging open and hand still latched onto the doorknob. The quaking of my body stops and time itself seems to hold still, letting this moment be forever etched into my memory. I feel a giggle building up in the back of my throat and I force it back, doing my best to restrain the urge to smile. I just received a compliment from her, Temari, the dangerous rebel and my newest friend. My heart skips a beat at that thought: Temari is my friend and now my only alley in this world.

A piece of hair is blown into my face and hinders my view of Temari. My body jolts to life and I frantically reach for the stray blonde curl that escaped the hair tie I placed in my hair earlier. Urgently I brush the navy piece behind my ear and smile, remembering the flattering praise I had just be given. "Thank you," I manage out weakly. How can I possibly be _this_ awkward? I amaze even myself.

Her smirk grows into a cheeky grin and at this point I now notice her dimples. Small and hardly noticeable, but still there when you look closely. As I gaze at her prefect smile, I feel mine begin to dwindle away. Her flawless lips blanket straight white teeth that glint in the gentle moonlight that ventures over to us under the protective shadow of my porch's roof.

Tossing her finished cigarette down onto the wood of my porch, Temari delicately steps atop it and smothers it out with a quick swivel of her foot. She shoves her hands into the depths of her jean's pockets, "Alright," she says, "let's go."

I nod and the freshly freed bit of hair falls out from behind my ear and dangles in front of my face again. I reach back up and tuck it away as I ease open the white oak door completely. We step inside and Temari follows me through the towering jungle of boxes that wait to be unpacked. The entire house is dark and I move slowly so she doesn't fall behind. She steps close to me and I can feel her hand slide onto my shoulder as I lead her, our arms pressing against one another.

Upon entering the upstairs hallway she removes her hand and I feel the lingering tingling sensation of warmth it left. My hand creeps up to my shoulder and I press on the spot where she touched my robe, still warm from her contact.

Temari looks down the stretched hallway, the shadow at the end like a black hole swallowing up anything that dared to venture near it. My room is on the left with the door creaked open and a golden light pour out through the crack. She looks to me then my room again and points. She hunches down to my level and leans over to my ear, "Is that you room?" she whispers.

Her hot breath bathes my cold bitten ear and I feel the blood begin to flow in it once more. I nod and whisper back, "yes."

She straightens back up and walks to the door, "Cool," she says. As she walked the creaks in the old floorboards cry out and echo through the otherwise silent house. Swing open my door she stands in front of the doorway and gives my room a looking over.

My body becomes ridged and I can hear the blankets tussle in my parent's room, being thrown off and releasing one of my parents, probably Father, from its enveloping hold.

Without hesitation I sprint the six feet to my room and shove Temari inside. She whips her head around to give me a baffled look and I cower back when I see it. Her mouth hangs open slightly and her forehead crinkles as her eyebrows bunch together. With realization crushing me I feel even stupider than before when we were outside. I feel myself freeze and the anticipation of not knowing if my parents would walk in and find Temari in my room began running through my veins and driving me crazy.

"Hinata," my Father says tiredly, "are you up?"

Temari's confused expression fades as she hears my father's voice coo to me from his room down and across the hallway. My door is now completely open and it shields Temari and me from my Father's view thankfully. Gingerly, Temari inches back and begins to head for my open closet, her tip-toes comparable to that of a mouse's. I ponder on the idea of Temari having experience in sneaking around in people's homes and the thought puts a heavy lump in my stomach.

I remember that my Father is still waiting for my answer and I quickly brush away my uneasiness and clear my throat, "Yes," I say softly as hoping to not wake my mother, "I just needed a glass of water was all. Sorry to wake you." My apology seemed to suit him and I could hear his door slowly creak to a close.

My Father yawns, "Alright then, go back to bed now." His bedroom door clicks shut and relief washes over me.

Temari had not yet made it to my closet before I shut my door and turn to lock it. My heart is still racing as the goose bumps that appeared on my arm begin to lay down. My eyes involuntarily find hers as she smiles and runs her fingers over her yellow scalp.

Temari tugs at her tight shirt and forces it to fit her properly. "That was a close one," she tells me, as if I didn't know.

She stands still and looks at me a moment, taking in my fear stricken face and large glassy eyes. I'm fidgeting and twiddling my thumbs as she examines me and I feel slightly awkward being watched like this. My eyes dart around my room in hopes of finding something to stare at myself, but since nothing is there to decorate it, I'm left with my vanity. The mirror catches my reflection and allows for me to see how awful I look. My robe loosely hangs on my shoulders and looks like a sack, hiding what little curves I have and my hair is still pulled back with chunks of dark strands freely hanging with the occasional frizzy strand standing up.

My hands fly up to my head and rip away the hair-tie that is failing at its job, releasing the mass of thick hair I have. Pushing locks behind my ears, I now go to work on my robe and quickly undo the knot, and retie it. I appear a bit better, but not by much.

Out of the corner of my eye I see Temari looking at the mirror and then back at me. She strides over to the vanity as a light hearted chuckle escapes her lips. "You look fine," she says to me with that mysterious accent. I'm still having trouble placing that certain _twang_ in her voice.

She reaches my vanity and picks up a black eye pencil, her thumb tracing over the cursive lettering that says: 'Midnight Black'. She looks at me through my reflection and our eyes meet. This time I don't feel as intimidated by her piercing stare as I have been.

Temari's eyes fall down as she turns the pencil in her hand, rolling the thin stick between her fingers and examining it carefully. The sleek black color that paints the eyeliner shines in the faint glow that emits from the table lamp on my nightstand. I see her eyelids flutter slightly, the curls of her lashes nudging the edges of cheeks.

"Don't forget to pack your make-up," she exclaims to me as she places the eyeliner back atop my vanity and walks towards the nearest box. Opening the folded down top, she peeks inside and pulls out a solid red t-shirt of mine. She holds it against her body and admires herself in the mirror that I used before.

Turning and tugging against the fabric of the shirt, she pulls it around her waist and shows obvious approval of how it hugs her oh so perfectly. "Make sure you pack this one," she tells me, "it's cute." Dropping the cherry colored top from her chest, she chucks it as me and asks where my suitcase is.

Clumsily I catch the t-shirt and stumble back as I do so. I point over to an open closet where my suitcase sits buried inside under piles of folded clothes. Temari turns on her heel and walks to my closet, stepping inside and deciding what should be taken and what should stay. She grabs clothes hanging in my closet and tosses them onto my bed, the plastic of the hangers clicking together as they land on my down comforter. She now picks up the folded shirts and pants that sit atop my suitcase and drops them onto the floor beside her, letting the once folded piles collapse and scatter about the hardwood floor.

She now rolls out my large blue suitcase and wheels it around to the other side of my bed then throws it up and beside the clothes recently placed there. Her hand slides the zipper around, and I begin to become cautious of my parents hearing us again. Flipping open the top she begins carelessly laying my clothes inside, not bothering to fold them or ask my opinion.

As she turns back to the closet she stops briefly, "You better get what you want now," she informs me. Temari continues back to my closet and fingers through what clothes I have unpacked.

My body goes limp as a particular scent flows behind her as she walks. My nose picks up on a faint smell that wafts over to me, a smell crisp and sweet. It seems familiar yet foreign at the same time, the fragrance of berries and freshly cut apples toying with my senses. The aroma was so clean and fresh that it must have been Temari's shampoo, a bouquet of fruit in a bottle.

I bask in the scent a few moments longer then slowly walk over to my vanity where I begin packing my make-up. I first grab my eyeliner Temari was playing with, eyeliner that I've never worn. I saw this color in the store and felt an urge to buy it, an urge to be grown up and wear darker colors and be _beautiful_ as opposed to cute or pretty. I've never taken off the top and drawn around my eyes, I'm far too scared I'll poke my eye out.

Temari is still rummaging through my things as she begins talking, "So why did you agree to come with me?" The question was unexpected on my part but understandable on hers. Her voice reverberates in the tight space of my closet and bounces out to me, ringing in my ears.

"Well," I begin then trail off. My throat tightens and I find words scarce in my mind, I have no real reason to give her for I have no reason to give myself. Why did I say yes? I'm thinking about it now and the moment seems surreal as I replay it in my head. I stop and rewind what happened, the event my own movie in my head.

I see Temari backing out of my closet with an arm full of my clothes; I recognize some of the articles as she drops them in my suitcase she's packing. She turns to me with her hip cocked out and hands placed over her slightly protruding hip bones that her shirt fails to cover. I blush and look away, embarrassed for seeing _that _much of her skin.

"Well, what?" she asks, her voice playfully taunting me to answer.

My lips pucker together and then form a fine line. My heart slows to a creep and I look in the mirror before me. My lavender eyes glide over my body then catch Temari's reflection moving in close behind me. She looms above me with her arms folded across her chest, the thick woolen sleeves of her pea coat blanketing her chest.

I whip around and face her; slowly I rise onto my toes in an attempt to become eye level with her. I barely reach her chin. "Well," I say again timidly, "I don't really kn-"

"You don't have to tell me," she bluntly says, cutting me off. "Your business is your own." Her tone was understanding and brings me back to the surreal place in my mind.

She turns and takes the few steps needed to reach my bed and finish packing my things. She finishes off my packing by snatching up the red top from before and chucking it inside in my suitcase. Closing the top, Temari zips it shut the cranes her neck around back to me. "Are you ready?" she asks.

The Land of Sand, I mentally tell myself, she must be from The Land of Sand. I'm now examining every syllable she says, trying to study that accent of hers and pin point it.

I grab my eyeliner and a few other items, and squeeze them into my make-up bag. "Yes," I mumble, "I'm ready."

Temari smiles at me again with such warmth that I feel my heart melt at the mere sight of it. "Alright," she hums, "get dressed and I'll load this into my car." She directs her pointed finger to my suitcase.

I'm perplexed at her suggestion and ask, "But your car is broken down."

She lifts my packed suitcase from my bed and begins rolling it to my door, still being careful of the amounts of sound she makes. She opens my door slowly and picks up my suitcase in her arms. I'm amazed at how a person her size can move such a large bag on her own. Temari fights to turn her head and looks at me as she mouths the words, "Hurry up."

Temari tip-toes down the hallway so quietly that I can't even tell if she's gone down the stairs and left yet. I waste no time and scurry to find a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. I slip into them and grab a light jacket to wear as I tie on my sneakers. I flick the light switch off and enjoy the last few moments I'll have in my new room. I sneak through the hallway and down the stairs trying to make it to the front door as soon as I can.

I'm in the foyer and my hand rest on the doorknob as I see Temari through the glass standing on the other side. She opens the door for me, steps in and walks passed me to the stand a few feet down that holds my parents' wallets. She finds my father's and fishes through it till she pulls out about sixty dollars. Next she goes for my mother's and steals approximately the same amount.

Temari shoves the wads of money into her front pocket and heads for me and the door again. She stops and grins at me sweetly, like stealing money was nothing. "Alright, let's go for a walk," she whispers and gingerly opens the door enough for both of us to get through.

She took the money for a reason, I tell myself, and we need that money to survive. The lies I tell myself do nothing to help my shaking nerves.

I exit my house and trek in Temari's wake as she trots down the driveway and turns left down my street.

"Temari," I mouse out, "where are we walking to?" I'm confused and lost. I don't know if listening and following her is right anymore.

She grabs my arm and pulls me closer to walk beside her, smiling casually as she does. She sighs, "We're just walking," she tells me.

We walk in silence for a while, our steps occasionally becoming synchronized then falling back out of place and matching up again. As we march on I try to get my feet to correspond with Temari's so we match, so we are the same, and maybe I can walk the same way she does. Glancing out of the corner of my eye I can make out her street lamp lit outline as it glides along the road beside me. Her arms dangle freely and swaying in tempo with the steps her long legs take. She boldly strides with her hair playfully bouncing behind her, stray blonde strands venturing forth to graze her slender neck and blushing cheeks. My hands become anxious and begin to toy with one another. I try to pull at my sweat lubed fingers but fail and find slight comfort in staring at my feet that are beginning to let me fall behind. Temari is now ahead of me, walking and examining houses down my road.

She suddenly stops and her hands reach out to halt me as well. I bump into her and she gropes around to latch onto my arm. Her eyes become fixed on a car parked in front of a house, its black color making it barely noticeable. Temari looks at me and then back to the car once more, her eyes burning with a magical desire that seemed far too powerful for me to comprehend.

Biting her lower lips, Temari fights back a grin; a battle she knows is senseless. "Do you know what kind of car that is?" she asks urgently. Her grip on my forearm tightens, the apparent excitement pumping through her veins and fueling her strength.

I stare at the car a bit longer, completely dumbfounded and speechless. "Umm," I stammer, "a black one?"

Temari's expression never falls as she gazes back to me, only momentarily taking her eyes away from her prize. "That's not just any black car," she slowly breathes out. Her free hand comes to her heart and rest there as she dreamily lets her eyes trace up and down the sleek vehicle. "That's a BMW 2009 328i xDrive Coupe," her voice fades into a whisper and I can barely hear her over the thundering pounds of her heart. Running her hand over her scalp she briefly rips her gaze away from the car to look at me. Temari tugs at my arm and pulls me along with her as she begins to briskly walk up to the car.

She motions me around to the driver's side with her, my nervous sweaty hands now becoming soaked. Temari releases me and the lingering heat from her touch is there again on my arm. I weave my arms over one another to stay warm in the bitter November night and to bring that feeling of Temari's contact closer to me.

Without skipping a beat, she reaches around to her back pocket and pulls out a thin brown leather bundle wrapped in a thin cord. Pulling at the string, she unravels the roll pouch in her palm revealing a small set of metal tools. Their shiny surface catches the moonlight that escapes through the autumn leaves that limply cling to brittle branches in the trees above. Fingers slowly stroke each thin tool vigilantly, studying each one and their purpose. Satisfied, Temari slides one out from a pocket in the pouch and kneels down to level herself with the lock on the car's door.

Her tongue worms out and rests a top her lip as she delicately leans in close with the tool in hand. Using one hand to steady the other, Temari inserts the pick and slowly begins to turn and work her hands in hopes of opening the door.

Words of protest are butterflies fluttering about in my mind, hysterically looking to flee and my sealed lips are the net to catch them. I don't have to courage to go against what Temari is doing; I barely have the courage to stand up to Mr. Orochimaru. My eyes drift down to the gray and white speckled asphalt and I begin scraping my feet against it. I know what she's doing is wrong, but I can't find the inner strength to say no. My stomach churns and inside it brews guilt, and pure hatred for my lack of actions. Again I am angry at myself as I realize how childish I'm acting. My pathetic image in the school's bathroom mirror flashes in my mind and I feel sick at the thought. My knees quake and my shoulders hunch as I desperately want to curl into a ball and have the ground swallow me whole. I knew from the very moment that Temari was a _bad_ person, I just wish that-

"Relax."

My mind freezes at the chirp of Temari's voice and I remain motionless. My breath hitches and feet stop tracing along the ground as I scavenge for words to say.

She sighs, "Hinata," she whispers.

My head jerks up and my eyes collide with hers at the mention of my name. My mouth falls open and I blink a few times before I speak. "Yes," I hoarsely reply, the sweet hum of my voice now scratchy with distrust.

Temari sets the pick down and slaps her hands on her knees then slides them up and down a few times, running her nails along the fabric of her skinny jeans. Her olive orbs soar to meet mine in an attempt to smother out my bonfire of worries. She strokes back stray hairs as she stands and towers above me. "You need to calm down," slowly the words fall of her lips and still I feel myself missing every single one. Everything is moving so fast I can barely keep up. My body shivers and I desperately regret, among many other things, not bringing a heavier jacket.

Temari shrugs off her long wool coat and holds it out to me, her arms now naked and vulnerable to the cool air. "Here," she says, shaking it in my face.

I hesitantly stretch my arms out to envelope the coat and pull it into my embrace. "Won't you be cold?" I ask shyly.

Temari quirks a smile and winks at me, "Nah, I've got enough jitters pumping through me to keep me warm till February," she chuckles out.

I place on one of my fake smiles and slide into the coat that doesn't quite fit me right. The sleeves are far too long for my short arms and the cut is small compared to my average shapeless figure. I have to fight the sides together and force each of the large buttons to hold the coat closed over me. After winning over the buttons I shove my hands inside the deep pockets and allow my mind to wonder to places of fireplaces and hot chocolate.

Temari bends down and gets to work on the car door again. I lean in over her and watch closely as she plucks the pick from the ground and firmly clenches it in between her fingers like a pencil. She exhales slowly and I can see a cloud of hot breath form around her face and float away. She shivers once and inserts the tool into the lock.

My heart quickens and I feel the air escaping from my lungs and passing through my lips stop as Temari works. The air becomes so thick with angst that I'm surprised the locksmith sitting before can even breathe.

"Do you know what you're doing?" I ask while my breath is smoking from my mouth and fogging up Temari's view of the lock.

She snickers, "Yeah I know what I'm doing." She uses a free hand to flip open her lock picking set again and slides out another even tinier tool. Tilting her head back she squints her eyes to clear her vision as she slips the additional pick inside the car door's lock. "This isn't the first time I've done this you know," she mumbles without looking at me.

Guilt crashes down on me like a tsunami and floods my emotional senses with a heavy burden by the name of Temari. She is the waves that churn and roll against my little life boat and smash onto the beaches of my morals, eroding away the grains of sand that took years to pile and form the perfect slopes of shore. I'm afraid of this storm that I'm sailing into and I don't know if I should toss my anchor out and stop or continue.

"You see," she begins as she exhales softly, "picking locks is like sex. The safe, in this case the car, is like a beautiful woman, a woman that I am _very_ attracted to. This right here, this is our intimacy. I have to move in just the right way to get her legs to open. Then when I hit that one spot-"

My hands muffle my ears as I feel them burning with the foul words I hear coming from Temari's mouth. How can she say such thing?! I blush madly as my body tingles with embarrassment, the hairs on my arms raising and rubbing against the thick sleeves of the wool coat I'm wearing.

Temari is still talking, her words provocative I'm sure. I keep my hands glued to my ears and wait for her to finish. Her lips stop moving when the lock from the inside of the car clicks up. Temari hops up and snatches the leather roll pouch from the ground, sliding her tools back inside. Her smile widens as she opens the door and waves me around to the passenger side. I don't move.

I'm still pressing against my ears as my hands struggling to reach my head, pulling against the tight fabric of Temari's coat. I see Temari standing beside to driver's door and staring at me questioningly. She arches an eyebrow and waves me again over to the passenger side. Again, I don't move.

Fed up with my antics, she walks over to me. She holds my hands in hers as she cautiously lowers them from my face. "Come on Mousy," she says to me humorously, "get in the car."

I don't move.

Her hands work up to my shoulders, abandoning my hands and letting them fall limply to my sides. Temari laughs and flashes me her smile, "Mousy, I thought you wanted to-"

"My name is Hinata," I boldly correct. I still don't move.

Temari's eyes widen as she steps back from me and removes her hold from my shoulders. "I'm sorry, _Hinata_," she says, "I won't call you Mousy, ok?" Her tone is nurturing almost as she tries to motion me to the passenger side of the car once more.

I'm scared; this isn't right, the stolen money and now this car. I know this is wrong. This isn't like running down the hallways at school or telling a tiny white lie to Father. This is bigger than that, much bigger.

Temari coos gently to me, "Hinata, you can trust me."

I don't feel like I can, the small meek voice inside my head says.

"You can trust me," she whispers again.

For some crazy reason I walk with her to the passenger's door and let her open it for me. She helps me in and I buckle the seat belt, fighting back the urge to yell and scream then run up to a house's door and bang away as I ring the doorbell. Temari gets in beside me and leans down under the steering wheel, pulling out an assortment of wires as she begins to hotwire the car.

A few minutes pass and she leans back in the comforting cushion of the seat, satisfied with her work. The car is now revving and we are driving away back to my house to unload our belongings stored in Temari's car into this _stolen_ one.


	3. Episode 3

**Episode Three**

"Do you really wanna know?"

I never look away from Temari as she slows the BMW to a halt, obeying the red traffic light that has just changed. The bright glow washes over her face and bathes her in its red light, turning her skin a dark pink. She glances to me sitting in the billowy cushion of the passenger's seat, her eyes even darker than usual and contrasting devilishly with her now red skin; a look I think suites her.

The majestic glamour Temari sported began to fade in my eyes, and was gradually being replaced with glimmering hints of pity. The envy that boiled in me was simmering down and becoming stagnant. Now when I speak, my voice has an apparent strength to it, even though it still crackles with fear.

I wipe away a tear that had begun to trail down my cheek, leaving a cool wet track on my flushed face. I clear my throat, "Yes, I do," I reply dimly to Temari's question.

We had been cruising down back country roads, the sharp hairpin turns Temari was taking made me half way nauseous, and we had been sitting in an awkward silence for forty-five minutes. Finally I mustered up the courage to crack it when I asked Temari why she was leaving.

Leaning back in the driver's seat, Temari's thin hand clenches the steering wheel and the leather rubs against her palm creating a strange squeaking sound. She pouts her lips and an eyebrow arches as she thinks carefully, meticulously searching for the right words to say. "You're upset that I stole this car aren't you," she asks me, never taking her eyes away from the road as she begins to speed through one of the only stoplights we come to.

I feel that it's a rhetorical question but I answer anyway, just to amuse her. "Yes. Stealing is wrong," I tell Temari as I straighten up in my seat, pushing my shoulders back and doing my best to hold my head high like a true lady.

I hear Temari chuckle that mischievous laugh of hers and grin that devilish smile. She flutters her eyes and looks at me as she lets her bottom lip quiver. "Stealing is wrong you say?" she whispers mockingly and places on an innocent face as her voice climbs to the octave of a young girl's. Her eyes widen and become glazed over with a thin layer of sweetness that I couldn't compete with.

I whip my head around and my eyes burn, "Don't deride me!" I shout to her. "Don't you dare try to ascertain my morals when you are some despicable anarchist who has none to believe in!" I have now craned my body around to completely face her and I see the boldness that I envy in her eyes fume and surface.

Temari smiles to me. She is always smiling, _always_. I can't seem to understand how she does it, even when someone is insulting her. She reclines back in the seat and exhales slowly, still grinning proudly. Her eyes face the road again and she briefly lets her gaze fall on me from time to time. We ride the next two or three minutes in silence again, the soft purr of the heater the only noise to keep us company.

Temari clears her throat and her voice is slightly hoarse, "Exactly how old are you?" The question took me off guard and I awkwardly stumble about my words.

My hands clench and I wince at my fingernails that prick the tender flesh of my palms. "I'm fourteen years old," I state. My ribcage feels like it might explode with all the pounding my heart is doing.

"You're pretty well spoken for a fourteen year old." Temari says as I glance at her and briefly, taking in the sweet sound of her voice.

"Well, I don't use provocative words," I say flatly, "and I was brought up with manners and poise."

Temari chuckles, "And you're saying I wasn't?" She begins to drive slower, taking the turns at less of an angle. "Earlier you were about as quiet as a mouse, why so talkative now?" she asks me.

I don't know where my boldness has come from but all I know is that I need to speak out against her and the illegal actions she is committing. I inhale sharply and sigh multiple times as Temari jerks her stare from me to the yellow lines in the road.

I weave my arms over one another and scoff, "I think someone needs to give you a reminder in etiquette."

Temari sighs and slows the car to a halt, parking far onto the right shoulder of the road. She shifts the car's stick and we now sit alone with car's engine purring like a cat.

Reaching across herself, she unbuckles her seatbelt and turns to the side to face me fully. Her hands are folded in her lap and I'm beginning to see a new side of Temari that I wasn't ever expecting. Her cheeks are flushed and she still wears that cliché smile of hers as her eyes burn into mine. She stares at me a moment and lets her glare be grained into my memory.

"I've offered to take you with me," she begins tenderly, "I've been nice to you and I'm not being nosey as to why you wanted to come along." Temari still watches me as I slowly feel my boldness shrinking away, "but you can't treat me like I'm some ant that you can step on. You've been awfully mean to mean for the past hour. You need to understand Hinata, that I stole the money and this car because we _needed_ it. I did those things so we could survive."

I don't know what to say in a response to her. I feel terrible that we've stolen things but I also feel bad for harassing Hinata after all she's done for me so far. She was right, and I knew it. And she knew that I knew it. I feel about as big as the tiniest baby bug on the entire planet.

Revving the engine back to life, Temari drives the car back onto the road and speeds around a turn. "Besides," she smirks even wider and winks at me, "You're a little young to be lecturing me like that." Her voice was playful and harmless as she hinted at correcting my behavior.

I blink my eyes and feel the bubbling burning in my stomach fade. I glance out to the side mirror and see my reflection glaring back at me. 'Anger is so ugly on a young lady,' I remember my Father telling me once. I frown slightly, and a heavy plague of remorse clobbers me like a stampede. I shouldn't have yelled at Temari like that and the only just thing to do is to apologize. I decide to swallow my pride and do the right thing. I swallow slowly and let my tongue run along my drying lips as I begin to speak.

Temari beats me to the punch, "My uncle took my little brother," she says. Her voice is emotionless for the first time, dark and dead. "He was already gone by the time I got home from school. He left me that note," she pauses momentarily as she points to the left pocket of her jacket that I'm wearing, "basically telling me I'm a failure at life and that Gaara doesn't need to be around me." Temari turns ridged and I catch the first moment of weakness in her appearance. She shivers only slightly as her eyes flutter away tears that I could tell were brewing.

I reach into the pocket of her coat and find a small piece of paper buried inside and crunched into a ball. I'm surprised I didn't notice it earlier. I hold the small wad in my hand and let it roll around on my palm. The note is packed together so tightly that I'm afraid to open it up, scared of possibly ripping it.

Temari clears her throat and I hear her normal tone take back its place, "You can read it if you want," she tells me.

The last thing I want to do to poor Temari is intrude on _her_ personal life now. It wouldn't be right, even if I was granted permission. I stare at the paper ball a moment longer then shove in back down into the depths of Temari's coat pocket. I gingerly fold my hands atop one another and recline back into the seat. Temari watches me return the note to its rightful place and has a somewhat quizzical look on her face. She wipes it off and concentrates on driving.

My stomach then purrs lightly and builds itself into a vicious lion's growl. My hands work to cover the noise as I push in on my abdomen and force the sound back into my body. Soon after the growl I feel the pang of hunger seize me and coax me into groaning from the pain. I remain silent as Temari laughs at my pain.

She chuckles and glances at me, "Are you hungry?" she asks playfully as she flicks on her signal to turn onto an exit.

I smile at her then frown as my stomach cries out again for food and interrupts our moment. Right now I feel as I had felt earlier with Temari. Like when we were in the office together and standing outside my house when her car broke down. This certain calm that I feel right now that manages to blanket us in its enveloping warm and sooth me like a baby in her mother's arms. There's a sense of welcoming arms and understanding, and true caring friendship when there are moments like this one. No anger, no worry, just us.

"Don't worry," she says to me, "I'll get you something."

As she finishes her sentence, a dot of water appears on the windshield followed by another. Soon the car and road becomes speckled with rain drops, rain drops that continue to fall harder and harder.

We begin to approach a string of restaurants and I feel the hunger in my stomach emerge and grow at the sight of neon lit signs. As the words on the signs come closer into view I see that none of the places are any healthier than a dumpster in an alleyway. I look at the digital clock in the car and see that it's 3:53 AM. I sigh and realize that no normal restaurant would be open at this time.

Temari picks one out and pulls into the parking lot beside a rundown truck with a missing taillight. We get out of the car and I dash to the front door away from the now pouring rain. Temari follows suit and we both run across quickly forming puddles that splash against our legs and soak our jeans. The gasoline from cars mingles with the water on the ground and lights from the brightly lit signs above catch in the dirty liquid and cast rainbows along the black asphalt of the parking lot.

We push through the door and a tiny gold bell above jingles, announcing our entrance to the few people sitting at old style diner tables. The small place was a pale blue with white tiles that appeared to not have been cleaned in a few months. I feel my appetite vanish and Temari only smiles down at me.

She walks ahead, soaked to the bone from the rain outside, her bangs clinging to her forehead as her black tank top hangs on every curve. The men in the room stare at Temari as she slides into a booth and waves me over. Self-conscious, I waddle over and sit at the table, jealous of Temari and yet thankful that she looks the way she does. Maybe our food will actually be good and no one will spit in it?

Soon a young lady comes up dressed in a dull yellow dress with a white apron and matching ruffles around the sleeves and pulls out a tiny notepad. She hands us menus and we open them up to see the items they have available for breakfast. Her hair is untamed and is loosely tugged back into a ponytail that flops onto one side of her head.

Chomping on a fruity flavored gum she says, "Hi there, my name is Ino, and I'll be serving you girls tonight." He tone is chipper even though she could barely stand from an obvious long night shift. "Can I start you off with a drink?" her pitchy voice makes me wince and she prepares her pad and pen for whatever words we may utter.

Temari smiles back at the young waitress and leans in close to her. "We'll have a couple of waters," she says sweetly. I notice how her tone changed an octave, almost masking the true wild child she was. What a con artist, I say to myself in my mind. I find myself laughing at the thought as I begin to come to terms with who Temari is and how she has to survive.

The waitress grins and reveals a line of teeth that overlap one another in a crooked smile. "Alrighty then," Ino chirps as she turns on her heel to leave. She seems nice enough.

Temari smiles at me from across the table, and at this very moment I feel that everything is going to be ok from now on. That comforting grin and the warming glow that radiates from those green eyes and coos to me, assuring that I have nothing to fear and that I won't be judged. Complete numbing bliss rolls over me and I want to drop all the formalities that I was taught, that were drilled into my head. I want to be _myself_ with Temari, and not the manner whipped zombie my Father trained me to be.

I glance down in my lap and see the napkin so delicately folded across it, the white paper with a thick crease down the center. My Father had trained me to be polite and well mannered by habit, and I don't even remember draping the napkin on my lap. I frown and grab the napkin away and toss it onto the table where it lays atop my shined silverware. I feel freer already.

Temari ignores my napkin rebellion and seems to be preoccupied with something or someone else. I see her glaring to her left intently, almost stabbing something with her dagger like eyes. Her glare is intensified as she catches me staring at her.

She faces me and her expression is hard as rock, "Don't look behind you. Whatever you do," she orders me sternly. My faint smile now falls completely from my lips and leaving my once fluttering heart vacant from any emotion. I can't seem to grasp what is happening, so Temari explains.

Reading the confusion on my face, Temari lets her eyes dart to the left once more then back to mine. "There is a guy over there," she whispers, "and he just took my picture with his phone."

My heart drops into my stomach and I feel my throat tighten. I want to whip my head around and see him, watch him and catch him red handed. Who takes pictures of girls in a restaurant at 4:00 AM?

Ino begins to walk over to us with two tall glasses of water in hand, the ice cubes sloshing around and splashing water out and onto her hands. Her teeth stick out from her top lip in a smile as she walks over to our table. She sets the drinks down and blinks a couple of times waiting for us to speak.

She stands still for a moment, "Are you girls ready to order?"

Temari places her trademark grin on and turns to Ino, "I think we'll need a few more minutes."

Ino grins and walks away leaving us to decide on our dishes. Temari turns back to me and sighs. She flips through a few pages and reads along a column of desserts. As her gaze is cast down, she doesn't notice the guest we have walking over to our table.

A man in a white collared shirt pulls a dirty white bar stool up to our table and sits at the head of it. He slouches into the seat sporting an overconfident smirk that almost made me cower in a corner. Temari lifts her head up to see the skinny man grinning at her as he began to situate himself in the chair comfortably.

His skin is paler than mine, almost milky white to the point where if the sun touched him, he would burn on contact. He ran a hand through his short ink black hair and smiled a cheeky smile at Temari and me. His long narrow face is too small to support such a large grin, I think to myself as the man gives us a good looking over. He pauses a moment at Temari and his smirk grows even more. He locks eyes with her and she does with him.

Temari's olive orbs gaze and burn holes into the back of the man's skull, but his black eyes keep staring. I can almost see sparks flying as their intensity clashes, the air in the room suddenly becoming heavier than a two ton truck. The man backs down first, satisfied with the reaction he got from Temari. He still smiles as he turns to me and leans in close; too close for my liking.

"Why hello there, young lady," he murmurs softly. After stretching his arms across the table, he then brings them in close and folds them over one another to keep him propped up. The gaudy silver cufflinks on his sleeves glisten and cast a bright light into my eyes making me wince slightly. Paying no mind to my discomfort he begins to play with them, spinning them between his index finger and thumb.

Temari doesn't give the man another chance to speak to me. Her voice is stronger than mine could ever be, "Can I help you?" she asks. The kind and warming façade Temari always wore had melted away the second the man took her picture. Her eyes burned and the rosiness in her cheeks had fumed into a ragging red that accompanied anger.

The man winks at me and cranes his head around to face Temari. I shudder at his action and look to Temari for guidance, for an answer of some kind as to what I should do.

He's still smiling, "Why yes you can, pretty girl." He extends his hand out to her as a peace offering, "My name is Sai," he says.

Temari frowns at Sai and chuckles, "Sai?" she asks mockingly.

By now Sai has turned away from me entirely and is giving Temari his full attention. "It's Japanese," he replies quickly. His hand is still open to Temari, but she rejects him. Still grinning he brings his hand back close to his body. "And what's your name?" he asks.

"Kate," Temari says without skipping a beat, "and this is Mary." Temari directs a finger at me and reminds the man that I'm still here listening.

Kate and Mary, I think to myself. If Temari was going to lie about our names, she could have come up with something a bit more believable. Surely Sai will know that she made those up and then he'll start questioning us more.

Sai's brow quirks, "Intriguing," he exclaims as he leans back away to allow both of us into his view. Letting his eyes dart between us, Sai allows for them to finally rest on me. He comes back in close and into my personal space, "So what are you ladies doing all the way out here at this time?"

I freeze in place and feel my mouth become dry as my breathing stops. Sai stares at me waiting for me to answer but I can't find anything to say. I can't think on my toes like this, I'm not nearly as clever as Temari.

"We're traveling to see out Aunt who just had a baby," Temari lies brilliantly. I feel the pressure valve on my nerves spin lose and release my brewing tension.

Sai never looks away from me, keeping me pinned under his gaze and left to squirm. He smiles again and begins to continue toying with his cufflinks. He exhales slowing and I feel his hot breath on my face, "And where exactly does your Aunt live?" he asks me –hoping that maybe I'll speak for myself. I won't though, and he knows it.

"What's with the interrogation?" Temari interrupts. Leaning far across the table, Temari does her best to shove her body between Sai's and mine.

He whips around and inches closer to her, effortlessly pushing her back down in the pale blue booth she was sitting in. Sai chuckles, "I'm just trying to make small talk is all," he assures us. Sai then leans back and weaves his fingers through one another and then rests them in his lap.

Biting his lower lip, he looks at Temari then at me and I feel myself becoming more disgusted with him every second. When he lets his eyes glide over me then lets them linger, I feel like I need to take a shower, to wash away his taunting stare. I feel him staring at me now, intently watching and studying every flinch I make. He sees me squirm and I know he loves it, watching me suffer as he analyzes me. I think I'm going to be sick with fear.

Cocking his narrow head to the side, he leans into me. "Why don't you girls come with me?" he asks sweetly.

Temari's hand jolts across the table and seizes mine. She looks at Sai and moans, "Oh, I'm really sorry Mr. Sai, but my sister and I need to be going." Temari begins to stand and pulls on my sweaty hand, ushering me to follow, "Our Aunt's baby won't wait forever you know," Temari laughs out and attempts to exit the booth.

Stepping in front and blocking her path, Sai sighs, "Now we'll only be a minute." His tone suddenly quirks in a way that makes me more frightful than before as he places a hand on Temari's shoulder and urges her to sit again. He grins and gives a light laugh, "I've got this friend who would love to meet you."

Temari refuses to sit, "We really must be going." She clenches my hand and I can feel her palms beginning to sweat too.

With his hand still delicately placed atop her shoulder, Sai gives Temari a final shove and firmly orders her to sit. She flops down with a heavy thud that echoed throughout the diner, gaining everyone's attention. The few people in the restaurant slowly lift their gazes and stop their conversations to witness the scene taking place. Sai doesn't like the audience and gently smiles to them, silently telling them to mind their own business.

Sai brings his head back around and faces Temari with his now evil eyes. He's still smiling as he speaks, "Behave now," he cautions with his silky voice.

Temari retorts with her glare and I can practically see the steam pouring out of her ears as her face begins to beat red. Sai thrives off her anger and grins as he sits back on his stool.

He begins to unbutton the top pearl button on the collar of his shirt and sighs, "Just come outside with me," he repeats. He shifts his look to me, "my friend really wants to meet you."

I shiver in my seat and pray for something to save us, for an officer to come barging through the door or for someone to save me. Like Father.

My heart sinks at this thought and I find it hard to prevent my lips from quivering. I want to cry now, let the salty tears race down my cheeks at drown away all of my troubles right now. So far, running away did not seem like the best idea.

"You can leave now," Temari states to the stranger.

Sai's smile finally drops, and the rosy shade of his cheeks fades as he begins to stand from the stool again. He pulls out his wallet and flips it open, pulling out a giant wad of bills. Unfolding the money, he revealed the contents of multiple hundred dollar bills, then fifty dollar bills that most likely equaled to amount of hundreds he had. Plucking a single fifty free, he dropped it on the table and began folding back up his wallet and sliding it into the front pocket of his black slacks.

He sighed and pinched the space between is eyes in frustration. "You see ladies," he began as his fake sweet welcoming tone began to be smothered away by this new darker voice, "I know that car you're driving is stolen." He now lets his gaze drift to Evans.

Temari only frowns in response and scoffs, "What makes you think that?" she retorts.

Lowering himself down to her level, Sai shoves his face into hers. "I'm not stupid," he growls. "Two little teenage girls driving_ that_ kind of car; it's stolen." His voice makes my shiver and I can't help but be proud of Temari.

She never falters from her stare and never flinches as Sai nears her. She stays strong and remains cool under pressure. She glares back with rivaling force, "The car is mine," she says boldly.

Sai closes his eyes a moment and straightens back up. He twists his neck to the side and lets his eyes relax close as he cracks it twice. His free hands reach for his cufflinks and unsnaps them and begins rolling his sleeves up his toned arms, "You're going to come with me," he says softly. He doesn't look at either of us as he folds up his sleeves, only staring at my glass of un-sipped water.

Temari glares back at him, "No we're not." Her voice is strong as she begins to rise from the booth and signal for me to follow.

Sai halts and waits for Temari to make her next move as he stares at her. Temari does the same. They stand alone glaring and waiting as I remain sitting in the booth.

I look around and notice that everyone has left and paid for their food. We're alone and I suddenly feel complete overwhelming fear seize me. It clenches my heart with its icy grip and I can't seem to bring my limbs to life to get up and run. I watch Sai and Temari as they face off, Temari's slender body standing firm alongside Sai's long gangly figure. A ringing from across the diner catches my attention and I rip my eyes away from Temari to see another man entering through the door. Temari's eyes follow mine as well as Sai's, even though he obviously knew who it was.

The man appears to be the same age as Sai, mid-twenties, and he's wearing the same attire: a white collared shirt and black slacks. He had already rolled up his sleeves to show off his thick muscular arms that stood by the door threatening me. His tan copper skin glowed. His face was tattooed with two large red triangles. He begins to walk over to us, his sleek black shoes clicking against the tiles on the floor. Bringing his hands together he cracks his knuckles and grins at me.

"Run!" Temari cries to me. Grabbing Sai by the collar of his shirt, she throws him down into the table, knocking over our waters and spilling them across the table and down onto the seats.

I spend no time hesitating as I bolt for the swinging kitchen doors where I know safety will be. I see the new larger man head right for me and zigzag through tables and chairs to catch me. As I run, my slippery hands manage to grab onto a chair and fling it down to the ground, hoping to slow him down.

I can hear him grunting heavily behind me, steaming with irritation as he sprints after me. My heart is racing and I become numb to what's happening to Temari. I glance back to her and see that Sai has won and is hovering above her, pinning her to the table by her shoulders. I feel remorse for my friend but know that the only way to save her is to run.

I make it to the kitchen doors and push them open, practically colliding into them. I frantically look around and see that no one is here. The stove tops are beating red and are aglow with heat, pots of water still boiling and pans still sizzling.

I look for Ino and any other waiter or waitress that might be present to aid me. No one is here. No manager, cooks, waitresses and/or waiter or costumers to witness this? They must have planned this, Sai and his friend.

I suddenly remember that I'm being pursued and I find the energy to keep pumping my leg to freedom. I dash to the end of the kitchen where a thick stove is, tall pots sitting atop it boiling and brewing.

Happiness consumes me as I slide behind it for shelter just as the kitchen doors swing open. The muscular tan man steps in and stops, slowly surveying the area. I know I don't have much time until he find me, for the kitchen is only so big and I know that I only have a few hiding spots.

I can do this, I tell myself. _I can do this._

I look around for some sort of weapon to use, still remaining aware of how much noise I make. My eyes land on a knife that is across from me on an island that is a few feet away. I have to make it to the knife, I say, Temari's life depends on it.

I hear a footstep approach me, and then another as the man nears. I swallow dryly.

It would be a quick jump, I can make it.

_Step…. Step…. Step…._

I can do it. I have to. My life and Temari's needs me to do it.

_Step…. Step…. Step…._

"Mary!" cries a voice.

Sai burst through the doors and screams my false name again, "Mary!" I can hear Temari's muffled cries as Sai curses to her and barks an order for her to shut up. "I've got your sister, Mary. Come out now and I won't hurt her."

Sai grunts a few times as Temari struggles even more. I can tell she's in pain, probably even bleeding, even though I can't see any of them.

My head falls to my chest as I sit scared and quivering on the kitchen floor, the tiles icy cold to the touch. I slowly and carefully slide my knees into my chest and hug them close, hoping to block away all the troubles I have. My sweaty hands grasp my bare arms and squeeze them with powerful force as my forehead rests against my knees. My breaths are quick and short, as sobs soon follow echoing in the silent kitchen.

_Step, step, step, step…._

They hear me and I know that the larger man is now walking to the very back of the kitchen to come and fetch me up and take me away with Temari. Sadness washes over me as I realize that I didn't have the courage to stand up and fight. The first thing I do is find a hiding spot and cower behind it, praying that someone or something else will solve my problems.

At least Temari was strong enough to fight back, to stand up and prove to the strangers that she was strong enough. She didn't recoil back and shrink away behind a kitchen stove where the rats go to escape the cooks who swing their traps at them. No. Temari wasn't weak and shy, she didn't let other people suffer while she ran away.

I wince as the strong man's arm wrap around me, squeezing me tightly and then hoisting me up and in view for everyone to see my shame. His muscular arms constrict and wring roughly against my body, crushing my slowly. I begin to feel my air becoming restricted and leaving my lungs as they burn and beg for it back.

I know my face is turning a violet shade as he clinches me tighter and tighter. I cough as my eyes water up even more; my arms doing their best to shove back and free myself. I know it's useless but I try anyway. I can hear Temari at the kitchen entrance scream muffled cries of protest against Sai and his friend, but they say nothing to stop my suffocation.

The man grips me harshly and I gasp for air, still cough as saliva begins to form around the corners of my mouth and drip off the sides slowly. He laughs at me and smiles at Sai then turns to me with that wide smile on his face.

My capturer laughs, "I think she might pop!" he exclaims. He gives me one final squeeze as he brings me close to him, making sure my ear is in tune to what he has to say. "Next time you run," he grumbles as he opens his arms and lets me hit the floor, "I _will_ break you."

My hot face is pressed onto the cold tiles as I feel the air return back into my body. I cough and choke as my hands come to my throat and chest, comforting me as I breathe again. I look up and blink away the tears to clear my vision as I stare my predator in the eyes.

They are dark like Temari's, but nowhere near as magical. His are vacant, and lonely. I can see them glaring at me and I know they will always be watching me. Always.

Sai walks towards us with Temari still struggling in his arms and I'm surprised he is able to contain her so easily. "Come on," he says to his friend, "Boss wants us in now." Sai turns back to the door and shoves Temari forward.

As Sai pushes through the swinging doors with one hand, I see Temari making another move for freedom. She places one of her feet behind the still closed door to reinforce it as she manages to reach for the other one. She slams the doors closed against each other, taking Sai's hand with them and smashing it. Sai releases Temari and cries out in pain cradling his hand close to his chest. Temari pushes through the doors and runs with Sai close behind her, trailing her as she weave through the tables and chairs.

The man above me grabs me by my hair and lifts me back up, my long dark blue locks playing as my puppet strings to my abusive puppeteer. I obey and rise as some of my hair pricks free from my scalp.

"Come on," he orders me, pulling me along back out to the dining area.

We exit the swinging doors and I see Temari lying on the floor with Sai straddling her, pinning her down once again by the shoulders. I see a thin line of blood running down from her forehead and mingling with the crystal tears she had begun to shed. I want to reach out and save her, but how can I when I can barely help myself.

Sai throws his hot angry eyes onto me, "You try anything like that and I'll slice open your throat!" he growls.

I understand and remain silent.

My puppeteer tugs me along again, bringing me closer to Sai and Temari as he pulls something out from the side of his belt. "Let's go," he says to Sai in a scruffy voice.

Sai nods and lifts Temari up by her wrist. I manage to meet eyes with her and I see that she is more preoccupied with something else besides me. Those dark green eyes widen in fear as she gapes at whatever it is my capturer holds. She follows Sai outside to our car where he throws her up against the side. I find myself being brought outside and thrown against the car as well.

Sai sighs as his friend walks away and leaves him there alone with us. He glares at Temari then at me, "Get in the car," he says.

We don't move.

"Get in the fucking car!" he shouts as he reaches for Temari's head of blonde hair and yanks it. He takes her by the head and throws her battered body against the car. I run to the passenger side and climb in as Temari does the same on the driver's side.

Sai opens the back door and gingerly gets it, running his hand through his hair then un-rolling his sleeves. "Drive," he orders as he buckles his seatbelt.

"To where?" Temari asks, starting the car and revving the engine.

Sai continues to un-roll his sleeves and snapping his cufflinks back in place. "Just drive," he whispers calmly.

Temari does and speeds off down the street, followed by another car undoubtedly the stranger from before.

I glance back into the back seat and see Sai fixing his hair and shirt, his hands slowly trailing around and buttoning buttons. Even though the faint light in the car barely helps me see, I can clearly make out something in Sai's belt. Something very, very bad that makes my body shiver then freeze as I turn back around.

"Temari," I say softly, my breath breezing passed my dry lips. My hand creeps its way along my lap and over to the stick shift of the car where Temari sits. My palm is sweaty again, practically dripping wet this time. I've now let my hand glide over to Temari's and I clench it, harder than I've ever grabbed anything in my entire life.

She feels the urgency in my hold and soon finds the confirmation in my stare as she looks at me through the corner of her dark eyes. I'm now breathing heavy and I can feel my eyes widen with each passing second as I try to form the very important words I need to say. Temari holds our stare and waits for me to speak, still driving down the now slick road.

I swallow dryly as my eyes briefly dart back to the guest we now carry in our backseat. My bottom lips quivers and I bite it still, my teeth piercing it and almost drawing blood as I whimper quietly. I can now feel the weight of tears flooding to my eyes and my vision blurs temporarily. I blink away the tears but they return as soon as they leave.

"He has a gun," I mouth to her silently.

Temari looks away from me and back to the road. She shifts the car into forth gear as my hand follows hers in the shifting motion. She never flinches as I tell her the news, it's like I never said anything to begin with. Never in my years have I seen someone as calm as Temari is, even in the face of death she can remain collected.

Once again I feel that envy that I thought had left me long ago after the theft of my parents' money and this car. Now it thrives in me and burns in my chest, pumping my heart faster and faster as I stare at Temari. She looks at me momentarily then back at the road. I find myself following her glaze and I become hypnotized by the lines on the road, zooming passed and under us as I feel Temari pressing harder on the gas, trying our best to escape the situation we find ourselves in.

She exhales sharply and whispers the best thing I think I've heard all night, "I'll protect you."


	4. Episode 4

Episode Four

The aching pain was almost too much for my head to bare, the throbbing twinge pulsing in between my eyes and causing my vision to blur. I could feel the torture venturing around and then residing in the back of my skull, sending sparks of_ glorious _anguish down my spine. My hand comes to my forehead and pinches the spot between my eyes, hoping to relieve some of the growing tension. I sigh as the pain still lingers, floating around my brain and stabbing it with the frustration and absolute fear that Sai's presence brings me.

I can hear him in the back seat of the BMW playing with his gun, emptying the holster, turning the safety on and off, and pointing it and an imaginary being and setting his aim. He scoffs and grunts with each fictional target he kills, then he blissfully "reloads" and fires again. I glance into the rearview mirror and see his face, twisted in a wicked grin with his sly eyes rising to meet mine in the reflection.

He smiles, "So Mary," he gently calls to me using my fake name, "what's your real name?" Sai brings the gun close to his chest and directs the barrel to his left as he shifts in his seat to fit more comfortably.

Terror pumps through my veins as I look to Temari again for advice, praying that she will have an answer.

Sai sits patiently in the back seat, eyeing me in the rearview mirror and studying the fear that was more than apparent on my face. The corners of his mouth began to twist and curl into an evil grin, a grin that I knew could not be trusted –ever. He leans forward and positions his head between Temari and me with his hands resting on our seats, the long silver gun laying beside my head and nuzzling my hair. I gulp and try to remain calm as I fight against looking at the pistol, but fail.

I can see the reflection of my lavender eyes stretched along the sleek barrel of the gun as they begin to turn red with the brewing tears. Panic grips tightly onto my throat and straggles out any scream that may come as I gaze intently at my distorted reflection a little longer. My flushed cheeks manage to turn a new shade of red and I mentally kick myself for allowing them to. I hate being this weak! I want to stand up and fight back, like Temari, but I can't. The gun motions closer to my face and the cold metal burns my skin as it pokes against my cheek as Sai speaks to Temari. I have no clue what he's saying, I can barely concentrate on what's going on right now, let alone listen to anything around me. A heavy lump plops into my stomach as Temari's eyes urgently look to me with Sai following her gaze and meeting mine with his black eyes. I shudder and my hearing is restored as I return back to reality.

Sai smiles a cheeky smile and exhales sharply, "So _Hinata_," he says softly, "Hinata and _Temari_." His voice conveys an arrogance that makes my stomach churn even though it's completely empty as his ego practically pours out of his mouth and floods the car, filling the air with a thick tension that couldn't be cut no matter how hard anyone tried.

He begins to raise his gun and extends his arm around me, pulling me closer to him. The gun now rest on my other shoulder and stings my hot flesh with its wintry touch. Sai brings his forehead close to mine and I reluctantly let him push us together, like we're close friends that have a secret bond that no one else has. I feel disgusted.

"Hinata, Hinata, Hinata…" he trails off as he rolls his sweaty forehead against mine.

My voice shakes as I reply, "Yes?"

He sighs and recoils back, letting me see his whole face and his black eyes that burn into the back of my skull. "Give me your wallet," he orders sweetly enough as he falls back into the seat behind Temari and me.

Temari manages to rip her eyes away from the road and jerk her head around to glare at our passenger. "Why?" she asks, "What do you need our wallets for?" Temari's tone rises with intensity that I see Sai dislike. He lurches his body forward again and shoves his face next to Evans's.

"Because you lying little tramp," he growl viciously, flinging his spit onto her face, "I DON'T TRUST YOU!" he yells. His neck and face are flaming red as veins bulge under his pale pasty skin. Sai collapses back into his seat once more, sighing as he goes.

Frantically I thrust my hand into my pocket and snag my wallet, yanking it free and tossing it in the back seat to Sai. My heart is racing, thundering even and I feel as if my ribcage might explode open from all of the pressure building up.

I hear Sai chuckle and wheeze, "Thank you, Hinata." He slides his finger inside one of the flaps and my wallet unfolds it onto his lap. I hear him tugging at my shopping gift cards, pictures and any other random trinkets I might possess, and dumping them into the space beside him. He grunts a few times under his breath, "Hear we are," I hear him mutter faintly.

He holds up a card in front of his eyes and scrutinizes it. "Hinata Hyuga," he exclaims triumphantly. "Hair color: dark blue, eye color: lavender, ethnicity: Caucasian, height: 5 feet and 2 inches, sex: female, and age: fourteen." He laughs a bit and looks at my I.D. a little longer.

"Huh," he scuffs as he smiles, "your birthday is the same day as the Boss's." He leans forward and places his chin on my shoulder, "what a coincidence," he says humorously, reclining into his seat yet again. He releases a cackle that startles Temari and me.

He rasps as his laughter continues, echoing in the car and stabbing my eardrums with its taunting sound. I feel my teeth grinding against one another as I slowly try to calm my nerves and stomach that is still determined to fight against settling.

Sai giggles a few more times, "Alright Temari," he pants, "now for yours."

Temari sits at the wheel and stares out into the now early morning sky, her eyes never faltering. She slowly lifts her pelvis up and gingerly she slides out her wallet that sat snuggly in her front pocket. Carelessly, she hands it to Sai who kindly thanks her for it and shuffles his feet against the floor, a large smile painted on his face still.

He unzips Temari's wallet and begins to hum a soft tune that sounds something similar to 'Walking on Sunshine'. He empties her belongs on top of mine that sit in a pile beside him. Sai fumbles about the items and stops when he comes across what he's looking for. He clears his throat and begins, "Sabaku no Temari. Oh that has a nice ring to it," he comments then continues, "Hair color: blonde, eye color: green, ethnicity: Caucasian, height: 5 feet 10 inches, sex: female, and age: eighteen." He pulls her I.D. back and out, then brings it back in closer adjusting his eyesight each time. "Wow Temari," he declares, "this is a good picture of you, a _really_ good picture."

I see Temari roll her eyes and groan slightly as Sai inclines his body back up to the front with us. "You know," he breathes softly, whispering in Temari's ear, "You're just my type."

"Do you have some sort of neurotic, obsessive compulsive problem?!" Temari yells at him, "Because you keep coming up here to chit-chat _quite_ a lot. Are you _that_ insecure of yourself that you need to converse with your abductees just to feel special?" Her sudden shrill tone claws at my ears, yet at the same time as delicate as a sweet golden bell. I needed to hear that, Temari's confidence booming from her chest in one mighty cathartic moment.

My flicker of happiness smothers out when Sai retaliates, anger fueling every motion he makes. His shoulders quiver and hunch as a thin vein emerges on his forehead, pulsing with each heavy breath he snorts. His thin lips curl into a snarl, revealing large white teeth that grind against one another as he groans deeply. Winding back his fist, Sai clenches every muscle in his body as he prepares to launch his punch. He makes a direct hit to the back of Temari's headrest, sending her head to violently jolt forward.

Temari slams on the brakes, my body lurching forward with Sai's as well. My seatbelt locks in place, securing me to the cushiony seat of the BMW as my neck suddenly jerks to the front. Sai is brutally thrown in between the two seats, the abrupt stop sending his head to meet with the dashboard in a bloody mess. His arms flail behind him, thrashing about and attempting to grope around and find some sort of support to push himself up with. He growls and as he quickly lifts his head I can see a line of ruby blood trailing down from his smashed nose.

He cranes his head around and glares at Temari with a burning hatred that made me want to huddle up in a ball and cry. I can feel his hand on my leg, using it as a brace for his balance, clenching and piercing my soft skin with his unclipped fingernails. The heat from his hand scalds my knee as the sweat from his palm dampens the fabric of my jeans. His grip constricts around my leg and I feel the urge to thrash about, forcing him to release me.

I can only see the back of Sai's head as he nears Sai slowly, her eyes large and fearful. Sai's voice is utterly consumed in rage as he speaks, "Why you stupid, little bitch."

A white blinding light catches him off guard. Sai turns around and Temari and I follow him and see two miniature suns flying towards the back of our car, zooming and then colliding with us.

I see the back windshield crack suddenly, the skeletal lines dancing and mapping out the path for the glass to follow as it shatters. Thousands upon thousands of tiny pieces brake free and explode into the car, spraying Sai's face with their sparkling glow as they catch the lights from the car behind us. Each delicate charm bounces against the roof of the car and falls down onto us making tiny incisions where ever they graze. Sai's arms soar up and over his head to protect him from the rain of glass, but to no evade. The sides of the car's body scrunch together as the metal folds, pushing the back of the car up to the front and ramming Sai into the front windshield. His already bloody nose crashes against the glass, painting it with red as it cracks. The side windows snap and brake under the sudden crash of pressure and spew glass onto my lap and the side of the road. My entire body heaves against my seatbelt again and pushes the air from my lungs, my head snapping forward and burning as it suddenly cracks. As the cars slow to a stop, and the searing pain I feel pulsing through my body subsides, I lift my eyes and look around, examining the damage done.

I become perplexed by the beautiful design Sai's colliding head made against the glass. The perfect circular spider web model beneath his face, splashed with a deep red color that hangs on each fracture like dewdrops after a misty rain. His face slides down and plops again onto the dashboard as his eyes flutter then close, letting him drift off into a dream like state.

I look to Temari beside me, who is shivering and grasping onto her arms, pulling them close to her chest. Her light blonde hair is frizzy and decorated with small beads making her sparkle like stardust in the morning's light. Narrow slits line her arms and cheeks and emit a red liquid that I know is her blood. Those striking dark eyes are shaken with terror, wide and gaping as they stare at Sai who lay motionless on the dashboard. Temari gulps and swallows down the dread that I could clearly see forming, begging to make itself known to the world.

In the distance I hear a car door slam followed by heavy rushed footsteps that approach us. I sigh and pray that someone has come to save us, take us away from this awful place and terrible man.

A man pops his head inside through the destroyed window on Temari's side, his face fuming with rage. "What the hell were you thinking?!" the man from before yells, intending for Sai to hear. His angry expression washes free from his face as completely disbelief takes over. His black eyes dart around the demolished vehicle and land on Sai's blood stain hair and shirt. His bottom lips quivers slightly as he meets eyes with Temari.

Her expression is blank and worrisome, "He hit me and my foot hit the brake," she explains. Temari's explanation was so fast I don't think the man caught it.

Sighing heavily, the man backs away and sits his hands on his hips, gazing off into the sunrise that casted its light onto the fluffy clouds. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a cell phone that he flips open, dialing a number then placing the phone to his ear. His eyes study us for a moment, "Don't move," he orders sternly, adjusting the gun slid into the tops of his slacks, gently reminding us of who was in charge still.

We sit and listen closely to his phone conversation.

The larger man never turns away from us as he speaks, "Hello," he says urgently.

A muffled response sounds from the phone, too soft for either Temari or me to hear.

"Yeah, it's Kiba. We're almost there but we've got a problem," he stops as the person on the other ends cuts him off. Kiba takes a step forward to us and looks directly at me, torturing me with his stare. The low voice mumbles a few words.

Kiba's expression is blank, "Yeah, I have the girl with the Byakugan. There was just an accident," he says. He lets his gaze shift from me to Temari as he continues, "and they're both safe," he reports.

The other person on the line is silent, letting Kiba wallow in anticipation of what might be said. There's a slight buzz of static then the cryptic voice resumes.

Kiba listens intently, "yeah, Sai's hurt," he says slowly, dragging every word out. "His head smashed into the windshield," he breathes out, "he was driving in the car with the two girls when they stopped suddenly. I was tailing them then," he trails off with his words becoming softer with each breath, "there was nothing I could do."

The muffled voice mutters a few words then ends the phone conversation with a click- the line goes dead. Kiba pulls his phone away from his ear and glares at it, the bright blue light beaming across his face and accenting his features.

Snapping the cell phone close, he shoves the device into the depths of his slacks' pocket and marches over to the rammed BMW that Temari and I sit in. His muscles flex as he reaches for the handle on Temari's door, swinging it open and sending whatever glass that still clung to the window to fly off. The driver's door wobbles and eventually stops as Kiba violently grabs for Temari's arm, yanking her from the car.

She spins around to face Mark, who was now pulling his gun free from the waist of his pants. He points the gun at Temari's head and sends her a fierce look, "Don't move," he orders again as he begins to walk around to the other side of the car.

Kiba motions around the front of the car and heads for my door. He opens it much more gently than he had with Temari's and lowers his gun to aim it at the pavement. His expression softens slight, but not much, as he locks eyes with me, "Get out of the car," he tells me.

I obey and quickly jump out, then scurry around the front and meet up with Temari, who is still gripping her arm from the brute force Kiba just applied to it. She releases her comforting hold on herself and envelopes me in her arms, embracing me then shifting my body around and behind her as Kiba begins to approach again. My hands recoil close to my chest, taming my heart as they push against its severe pounding as Temari slowly creeps backwards and away from Kiba.

Kiba sighs at the sight before him and stops, "I'm not going to hurt you," he whispers and slides his gun into the back of his slacks.

Temari cackles, "Yeah?" she asks, "well the bruise I'm going to have on my arm says something different."

Kiba glares sternly at her, as his voice perks up a bit, "You can't leave," he asserts.

Temari and I freeze as Kiba begins to take another step towards us, his large strides intimidating me as the near us.

"If you try to run," he says, "I'll shoot you." Kiba now stands only about a foot away from Temari. He towers above her, looking down and seeing into those dark eyes of hers that smolder courageously.

Extending his hand he places it on Temari's shoulder and gently moves her aside, revealing me shaking like a leaf under his intense gaze. He sighs, "I don't want to shoot you, but I will." Placing his large hands on his hips, Kiba twists his neck around and gives it a crack then looks to the BMW that still sits in the middle of the road. "Well," he inhales sharply, "you two get Sai and I'll clear out a place for him in the back." Kiba begins to head for his car, the once sleek bumper crushed from the crash barely hangs onto the front of his large black SUV.

I swallow dryly and tug on Temari's shirt then nudge her forward towards the BMW where Sai's unconscious body awaits. Instead of moving forward, Temari side steps to the left, leisurely skulking her way from the scene. She latches onto my hand and gives it an encouraging squeeze as her breath quickens.

Panic seizes me as I earnestly plead to Temari, "No, Temari don't," I whisper so Kiba doesn't hear. I fight against her hold and beg for her to stop, "Just do what he says," I beseech her, "please stop! He'll shoot you!" my voice is becoming hoarse with each request I make, and I feel that none of them are persuading her otherwise.

"I don't shoot to kill, girls," Kiba's voice chimes in.

Both of our heads whip around to the right and see Kiba opening the trunk of his car, reaching in and rearranging things to his liking. He gingerly hoists his large body out and props it up against the side of the black SUV. "If I _do_ shoot you," he says, "I'll only aim for your leg or arm- just to slow you down." His black eyes rake over our bodies and scorches mine as he takes a breath, "when I catch you; that will be the _real_ punishment."

Temari and I say nothing as Kiba gives us his last warning, then motions us to the BMW with a wave of his hand. We trudge over to the car as Kiba watches us go, carefully studying our moves and making sure we don't try to run.

So we do as we're told. Temari and I slowly march over to the BMW and pry out Sai's limp corpse; his arms grazing the sharp shards of glass that lay scattered across the seats and scratch his skin. Once he's free, we drape him alongside the road as begin to grab our suitcases that we repacked from Temari's beat up car back at my house. Kiba soon walks over to us and stands beside Sai.

He kneels down close to him and examines his head, "He'll be alright," he tells us. I feel no sigh of relief and I'm sure Temari doesn't either.

He works Sai into his arms and carries him bridal style over to the huge black SUV that was parked behind us. He walks him over to the back and slides him into the cleared space he just made. Kiba comes back around to the front of the car and waits for Temari and me to finish unloading our things from the trunk of our car. Frankly, I'm surprised that our stuff is still even in tact after what we just went through.

"OK girls, come on now," he orders us.

Temari hikes her suitcase onto her shoulder and boldly marches over to Kiba and drops her baggage in front of him. I follow her, but wheel mine along slowly and casually glance to the sides avoid any eye contact with anyone. I meet up with Temari and Kiba and release the shaky hold I have on my bag.

Kiba latches onto both of our bags and begins to walk around the left side of the car to the side doors. He opens one and begins to toss in our luggage, "Temari, you get up front with me," he orders.

Temari's eyes dart to me and give me a serious look, an urgent look that told me not to try anything stupid. I swallow dryly and look back at her, mentally confirming that everything she signaled to me was crystal clear. Temari walks over to the passenger side and jumps in, rudely slamming the heavy door.

Kiba closes the side door and begins to open to driver's door. I still stand in front of the car, shivering in the early morning air with the faint sunlight my only form of warmth. Kiba stares at me and frowns. "Get in," he yells at me.

Franticly I jump to life and run to the other side of the car and hop in the back. I wedge my body in close beside the suitcases and buckle my seatbelt. I don't want to end up like Sai if we happen to get into another accident.

Kiba starts the car and flicks on the interior lights, "You girls are an awful lot of trouble," he informs us. He presses his foot on the gas and takes off down the road, resuming our intended course.

Temari scoffs, "You don't know the half of it," she retorts.

Kiba whips his head to the side and glares at Temari, taming any wild flame that may still be ablaze within her. A heavy growl rumbles in his throat and I feel my stomach sink into my feet, fear seizing me completely.

Kiba turns his head back to the road, "The Boss hates girls like you," he says casually.

Temari's stare intensifies and she slowly inhales, "Who's this 'Boss' guy anyway," she asks.

Kiba laughs and makes a sharp right turn, jerking our bodies around, "He's 'The Boss'. His name should say enough." Kiba straightens the car back out and continues to drive normally.

Temari finally buckles her seatbelt and grips onto the door to hold herself up, "Yeah," she cries out, "but the boss of what?"

Kiba laughs again and glances into the rearview mirror and manages to catch my eyes in it. "The Boss loves girls like you, Hinata," he says smoothly, the words falling from his lips in a perfect string of sentences. I shiver again at the sound of his voice.

Kiba directs his attention back to Temari, "How do you know our names?" she asks. "We never told them to you."

Inhaling, then releasing the air, Kiba never lets his eyes drift from the road, "Sai texted them to me. Just like he texted The Boss a picture of you two. The Boss likes you Byakugan girls a lot." His dark eyes meet mine again via the rearview mirror and hold my attention even though I want to fight to break away.

Desperate now to protect me, Temari leans in close to Kiba, "What does your Boss want with us?" the question is fraught as she begs for his attention.

Kiba looks to Temari and liberates me from his glare. "The Boss wants you, for _you_," he says.

"And just what do you mean by that?" Temari demands.

Kiba laughs faintly and slowly turns the car again, casting the now clear sun's light into the car and practically blinding me. "Let's just say The Boss is in a certain _business_ that requires people like you."

I don't understand but Temari seems to. Her eyes widen in remote fear, a certain kind of alarm that glazes over her glassy eyes and causes them to water with budding tears. Those lush pink lips of hers hang open as her lungs become vacant and the air leaves them, quickly escaping her in a worrisome loss of words. Momentarily, her cheeks prickle to attention with a blood red as her pupils dilate to the size of tiny pinheads. Her body goes ridged, causing her spine to go erect and her shoulders to flinch back and push her chest out. Temari is a statue in the morning's light that still pours in and bathes her in its glistening yellow glow. I'm slightly taken at how beautiful fear can be on her under these conditions, but I quickly push the thought away remembering that Kiba is probably thinking the same thing; and it most likely gave him the thrill he enjoyed.

"Except for, Hinata," Kiba utters under his breath, so I must lean in closely to hear him speak.

I fall for his trick and scoot up to the edge of my seat and digging my nails into the cushion of the chair's trim. I crane my neck forward and tilt my ear towards him, "What?" I manage to whisper out in choked syllables.

Kiba glances back to me quickly then faces to road again as he drives. He clears his throat and sits up straight, "The Boss would never want to put _you_ in harm's way," he tells me with his booming voice.

I see Temari cringe and huddle into a ball, resting her forehead against the window with her bangs shielding her eyes from my sight. She folds her knees in close and envelopes them with her arms and I can see through the space between side of the chair and the car that she's crying. Her shoulders suddenly jerk and flinch as faint gentle whimpers coo to me, telling me that things _aren't_ alright and that she _can't_ protect me, at least not anymore.

Kiba, still driving, laughs an evil chuckle and clicks on his signal to turn onto an unmarked dirt road. I look ahead and try to see what awaits Temari and me, what devilish place Kiba is driving us to. I can see the light blue sky with heavy fluffy clouds blanketing the bright sun that looms above the sandy shore of a beach. The dirty blue ocean waters roll and crash against the cost, painting the white sand with its foamy pain. Over mini hills of white dirty and rocks, a tiny beach house can be seen hidden behind a few limp green trees. I can't manage to tell what kinds they are, but they're big and a good resource for hiding behind.

An alien noise breaks my concentration on the scene before me and I whip around and listen intently to the sound emanating behind me. A deep throated groan echoes in the back of the car followed by a shuffling sound and then a violent thud. Sai's awake and he mustn't be too happy.

He groans once more and coughs a few times, then spitting _something _out of his mouth, "Kiba!" he calls to him in a delusional tone.

Kiba looks into the rearview mirror, "Yeah," he calls back to his partner.

Sai shuffles around a bit more in the back and gropes around for something to help hoist himself up. He finds a head rest and lifts himself high so he can see, "My head hurts," he wines.

Maintaining a serious expression, Kiba looks to Temari briefly then back to Sai, "I'm sure it does," he says dryly.

We continue to drive along the dirt path that undoubtedly leads us to the secret beach house that sits quaintly by the shore. Sai manages to squirm his way up into the front and squeezes in beside me and the luggage. He clumsily feels around and sways left then right, blinded by dried blood and shattered glass fragments. He moans and curses a few times then plops down onto the floorboard of the car, leaning on my leg for support.

Kiba turns his head around and frowns as he begins to slow the car, "Jesus Sai," he sighs, "if you don't get a seatbelt on, you might get smashed against the windshield again." He slows the car as he makes a left turn.

Sai groans a few incoherent words of protest then unbuckles my seatbelt and yanks me out, throwing me onto the floorboard. He steals my seat then clicks the seatbelt in its lock as a huddle close to the back of Kiba's seat.

Kiba sighs and speeds up the car, "Whatever," he grumbles.

We proceed on down the dusty road until we finally make it to the beach house; the huge trees' branches playfully swaying in the ocean's breeze. A wooden wind chime clacks to the wind's demand and dances with the rhythm it plays.

Kiba grumbles and pulls the keys out of the ignition, "Alright," he says, "get out."

By now Sai has regained himself and leans over to me, pulling me up off the floorboard and into his coarse hold. He slides out of the car and drags me along with him, never once thinking of how comfortable I might be as I'm forced to slither out of the car. My feet hit the soft ground and sink into its cushion. Sai stumbles back and brings me along with him as he does. We lose our footing then find it as we begin to walk to the porch of the beach house.

I look to my left and see Kiba opening the passenger door and grabbing onto Temari's arm and then pulling her down. She willingly goes where directed and Kiba seems pleased with her. He violently drags her along as he heads to the porch and stands before the house.

Sai scoffs and gives off a light chuckle, "Go get The Boss," he gleams, "I want him to see the gift I brought." He tugs on my arm and weaves his fingers in my hair, toying with the curls that entangle in between them.

Emotionless, Kiba releases Temari and gives her a stern look as he begins to make his way up the old stairs. He carefully watches Temari as he goes and she remains stricken with sadness, morosely looking at the white ground beneath her.

The porch creaks and whines under each heavy footstep Kiba takes, bringing him closer to the patio door of the quaint beach house. Small dust clouds of sand and dried paint blossom and tussle around his feet and leaving a faint dirty trail behind him. Kiba's black slacks are now coated with a thin layer of grime that arouse from the porch, caking onto the soles of his shoes with a grey film. He looked down and groaned, "Somebody's been slacking on their job."

I hear Sai behind me chuckle softly, his breath flowing onto my flushed cheeks and sending small shivers of abhorrence up and down my spine. "Somebody's going to be in trouble," he sang playfully as he lowered his face close to mine and cuddled close, burying his face in my hair and inhaling.

I quiver as my eyes screw shut and I nip onto my bottom lips to hush any whimpers of protest that may manage to escape and be heard. My shoulders flinch and I notice my body automatically recoiling away as Sai tightens his grip on me and pulls me closer into him.

"Cut it out," Temari demands harshly, taking a few steps towards us.

Kiba wastes no time and jerks his body around with his gun firmly targeted at Temari's head. His broad shoulders flex and tighten as the rest of his muscles follow suit, preparing for any athletic activity Temari might provide for them. Kiba's face twists into rage as the corners of his lips curl into a snarling growl, revealing hints of white fangs. His brow bunches together as his dark eyes are set on Temari, burning with the desire to attack.

The quick wrenching of Kiba's gun clicks and snags my attention, persuading me to open my eyes and watch the scene before me. I see Temari, slightly shaking, facing Kiba and glaring at the long metallic gun that is being pointed at her. Her naked arms shiver as the short hairs on them began to raise and sway in the gentle gust that begins to stir up sand around us. Temari's light bangs begin to brush her forehead. The peach glowing color of her face has washed free from her body, leaving her once pink cheeks paler than the white sand blowing about us. She gulps and I can see her throat move as she swallows down the scream I knew she wanted to cry out.

Kiba gingerly takes one step towards her, his weapons still aimed and ready. He steps once on the old steps and they creak, causing Temari to flinch. He takes another, then another and is now on the sand again, slowly creeping his way closer and closer to her. Still watching him, Temari studies every move he makes and prepares herself for what she knows is coming.

Launching his arm forward, Kiba latches onto Temari and yanks her close, her pig tails flowing mystically behind her as she tumbles down. Her hands submerge themselves in the soft cushion of the sand as she lands, her light bangs draping over her eyes and shielding her face from my view like a thick curtain. Kiba fixes his pistol down to her head, the tip of the gun poking against Temari's scalp, scrunching up her hair.

My heart stops, the sudden chilling halt almost throwing me off balance as I tumble forward from the sight. The once boiling blood in my body now runs icy cold through my veins as I feel my color wash from my face. My lungs cave in and dry up like grapes in the sun as I feel my throat tighten with anticipation, or pure fear -one of the two.

Sai encircles me with his arms and yanks me close yet again, my hair scraping his chin as my hands fling out and reach for Temari. My trembling lip puckers out as I try to cry out, words spoken in a mute's voice. I choke on every syllable I fail to pronounce and cough as Sai blankets my mouth with his long pasty hand.

Temari's shoulder began to quake and tremble with each dreary second that passed, causing her entire body the wobble until she eventually teetered over. The tight pig-tales fall and release long hair. She balanced herself on her elbows now as her hair splashed against the white sand, pooling around her like a puddle of blood.

Kiba places a foot on her shoulder and kicks her over onto her right side until she lays flat on her back. Temari's black tank top is now caked with dry sand that desperately clings to her sweat drenched body, her arms and chest coated with the grimy filth.

Kiba kneels down to her level and rests his elbows atop his knees. Looming over head, he glares down at Temari, piercing her with his dark intense eyes. "Don't push me," he warns. Placing one hand on the ground, he lowers himself even closer to Temari. He places his mouth beside her decorated ear and whispers something so soft I can't make it out.

Pushing himself back up, he latches onto the collar of Temari's tank top and hoists her up. I can see Temari's face completely glaze over with a depressing sense of anguish that Kiba's words brought her. He brings her close to his side and ferociously twirls her around to face the house, then gives her a shove to move and begins walking.

I heavy creak from the beach house's door snags our attention and brings all of our eyes to the front to see a young woman stand in the doorway. She looks no older than me, maybe a year or two if anything, and she has dark hair with light eyes.

_The Boss likes you Byakugan girls a lot._

The words ring in my memory and force up blocked images and feelings of the night that I'm doing my best to cover up.

The girl is thin, scary thin, her skeletal legs showing through the long beach dress that traces along her bare feet. Her shoulder bones angle out and through the thin string straps of the pearl colored dress that blends too well with her skin tone. She appeared to us almost like a ghost in the early hours of sunset, so mystical and frail as she was manipulated by the wind's strong hands that griped her.

"Caroline!" We hear a voice call from inside the depths of the house. A deep throated voice that belonged to a large man. The tone was gentle yet forceful with its strange tender manner as its owner appeared from the shadows of the doorway.

A muscular man walks through the doorway and worms an arm over Caroline's shoulder then pulls her close to him. He wears a light blue button shirt that reveals the tone lines of his chest for all to see and know of and brown thin pants that too draped across his bare feet. He is elderly, yet still has the smile and strength of a young man that has spent every day at the beach and in the ocean. He gives Caroline a gentle pat on the shoulder and looks down to her and mumbles a few words. She smiles shyly and then lets her eyes fall on me.

Removing his arm, he walks down the stairs and over to Kiba who stands closest to him with Temari still firmly in his hold. He meets eyes with him and smiles as he mutters a few words I can't hear clearly.

He directs his gaze onto Temari, who still gazes sullenly at the ground. He lets his eyes scale her in all her glory, taking her in and scrutinizing her, "Well, well, well," he mutters. He holds out his hand and reaches for Temari's face, pinching her chin in between two fingers,

"I should have a place for you," he states, moving her head around to see all the defined features she possesses.

He traces the hand on her chin along her jaw line then up her cheekbones and onto her forehead, slowly trailing his fingers and savoring every moment. Those strong hands gently push Temari's thick bangs out of her face and to the side so her eyes are clearly seen.

The man freezes momentarily taking in the sight of Temari's dark green orbs that sparkle gloriously in the sunlight. Her cat shaped eyes captivated him as he leaned in closer to her, gazing deeper and deeper. He clears his throat.

Temari jerks her head free with a look of disgust placed on her face as she turns to glare of the sand once more. Her yellow bangs tumble down into her eyes yet again, protecting her from the sight of her captures.

The man only smirks, and cranes his neck back giving off a light chuckle of surprise. He brushes off any imaginary dust on his shirt and clears his throat while walking away. Slowly rotating around, he signals to Caroline to join him as he makes his way over to Sai and me. His muscular hands run through his long faded gray hair as he sends me a playful look and winks. I just now notice long red line tattooed on his cheeks, similar to Kiba's.

Caroline meets him beside me, her head held low and her hands fiddling with one another close by her chest. Her hair blows rebelliously about her, but she ignores it and concentrates only on her hands.

The man leans close to me and takes my quaking hand, bringing it close to his lips and planting a tender kiss on it.

He inhales slowly and reveals a bright welcoming smile to me, the wrinkles along his eyes and mouth folding to meet his face's demands. His black eyes dance along my body, "What a pretty young lady," he mutters under his breath. "Hello, my name is Jiraiya," he says sweetly releasing my hand and letting it fall to my side.

My eyes widen as I jerk my head to Temari, to see if she's listening at all to what's being said. She stares at the ground as Kiba begins to drag her to the beach house and up the dusty porch. She seems so lifeless now as she walks with him, her feet scraping and kicking up fumes of sand. A pang of grief stabs me in the chest and I come to realize how discouraged I am to see Temari like this, weak and powerless like me. She disappears into house and I turn back to Jiraiya.

"Hinata," Jiraiya says softly, "Hinata." He tastes my name on his tongue and grins as he licks the residue from his lips. It appears to be like champagne washing over him and filling his mouth with wild flavors.

He sends Sai a stern look, silently ordering him to free me. I feel his arms loosen and fall back, only to let Jiraiya's arm wrap around me and pull me close. His giant hand rests on my shoulder and he pulls out a cigar from his shirt's pocket and elegantly places it in his mouth. Caroline appears from the side with a lit lighter in hand and brings it close to the cigar, igniting it with the long yellow flame.

Jiraiya inhales the zesty smoke and blows it out away from my face. We walk to the beach house, following the path Temari and Kiba traveled, our feet matching to their footprints.

"You Byakugan girls just get prettier and prettier," Jiraiya says.

His grip tightens on my shoulder, suggesting leaving small bruises where his fingertips are. Bile churns in my stomach, tossing about the aversion I feel and tempting it to spew from my mouth in a hateful rage of words. I never look up to lock eyes with Jiraiya, only gazing in front of me and watching where my feet land with each weighted step I take. I concentrate on the decorum of the beach house as we enter it, trying my best to forget tonight.

It's small with dull blue paint on the walls and embellished with numerous mirrors of different shapes, sizes, and styles. A large bay window is thrown open and tempts the ocean breeze to run through the white shear curtains and ask them to dance. Young dark haired girls litter the living room, all of them around a large round table with small fruity tarts and tea cups with matching plates and pots. The circular table sits low on the floor with large embroidered floor pillows the only seats, with the girls delicately sitting atop them. They all are teenagers and dressed in various dull colors of long beach dresses and skirts. Their pale white skin blends with their shades of light lavender eyes and ghostly garments, making them appear lonely and dead.

The hardwood floor is blanketed with large Arab rugs all across the house, none of them matching. Small end tables are aligned against the walls with exotic flamboyant flowers shoved in crystal vases and picture frames of Jiraiya in various countries and foreign lands with people he most likely never met again.

I frown as Jiraiya introduces me to the other girls in the room, "Ladies, this is _Hinata_," he says and directs his free hand towards me. He waves the girls over from the table and urges them to come and greet me and try to tell me how great their lives are.

They scurry over to me, their thin dresses and skirts blowing in the faint gust and wrapping around their tones legs, outlining their figures. Caroline joins them in welcoming me and races to the front of the pact. Lean faces gather together and stare at me, the fake smiles they all wore yelling at me and screaming for me to run. Skeletal hands reach out to me and seize mine, the bony finger enveloping my hand and grip it with what little strength they have. I see Caroline grinning at me weakly and bating her eyelashes, "Hello," she whispers to me in a shy voice.

The rest of the girls follow suit and greet me with feeble 'hellos' and 'welcomes' that all mold into one big massive weedy murmur. Their dark heads bob up and down, creating a sea of black hair with rolling waves. I study them all and see all sorts of girls with long thin hair or short bob cuts, even curly hair cut close to the scalp and mimicking the young redhead Annie. However, there was one thing they all shared. Those pale lavender eyes, like mine. We apparently were, '_Byakugan girls'_; born with dark hair, pale skin and delicate pale eyes.

Jiraiya coaxes me to turn to him and lowers himself to my level, then places both hands a top my shoulders, "so perfect," he says to me and grins again. His eyes run along my face and study me, never wanting to leave. One of his hands comes up to my cheek and cups it lovingly as his thumb traces smoothly against my skin. He exhales and leans in close to me, gently leaving a butterfly kiss on my forehead. Gazes into my eyes once more he directs my attention to the other girls as he pulls me closer.

"You're going to stay here. " He smiles at me and hopes for my approval. "This is your new home," he informs me.

I look to the girls beside me and see how they smile to their protector and give him their false love. They stand close to each other and gently stroke bare shoulders and arms in comforting gestures, they way sisters do. Again pain holds my heart and reminds me of Temari.

"Where is Temari?" I ask Jiraiya sweetly, forgetting what he just said about my new home. I'm hoping to appease to his displayed gentle nature.

He looks down to me and smiles lovingly again, his caring eyes looking into mine. Glancing off into space he thinks a moment and then speaks,

"She went away."

Jiraiya's smile practically blinds me as he urges me to the table to sit and enjoy a cup of tea at the round table. His hand presses into the small of my back and forces me to walk.

I'm confused as to why Jiraiya doesn't directly tell me things. I'm still worried about Temari and I don't know where she is. I look around and find that she's gone and so is Kiba. As my eyes quickly scan the area and other rooms, I discover a large office that appears to be Jiraiya's personal place. The walls are lined with massive bookshelves and filled with dozens and dozens of thick books.

Jiraiya takes my hand in his as he kneels down and gapes at me sitting on a small floor pillow. I fold my legs under me and push my shoulders back and flip my hair from my face. Jiraiya's thumb runs along my palm and I noticeably shiver from his touch. He ignores my action and continues to gaze at me as he takes a moment to ponder.

"I ne'er was struck before that hour  
With love so sudden and so sweet.  
Her face it bloomed like a sweet flower  
And stole my heart away complete."

Extending his hand to my face, Jiraiya gently strokes my cheek with his sand paper fingers and gazes deeper into my eyes. Shyly, I jerk my head away and turn to the other girls, gaping at them in pure embarrassment as Jiraiya continues on reciting a poem.

"My face turned pale, a deadly pale.  
My legs refused to walk away,  
And when she looked what could I ail  
My life and all seemed turned to clay."

My mind began to shut down, words falling on my deaf ears. I study Jiraiya's mouth, the way it twitches and perks with every loving sweet word he speaks. The muffled sounds he makes continue to fill the air and suffocate me. I breathe in and I'm overwhelmed with a sudden sickness that causes my vision to blur as I find myself being brought back to reality as silence conquers Jiraiya's voice. 

The recited poem is complete and Jiraiya smiles at me again, "John Clare," he tells me.

The young teenage girls stand around us, encircling the table and towering above me, trapping me in with our capture. I meet eyes with one girl, with the short Annie style hair cut, and I see her shake small amounts of sand from her black pin curls. She looks at my sweetly then over to Jiraiya who begins to rise from the table. He waves to the Annie girl and Caroline and then points to me.

Upon knowing what to do, they both walk over to me and daintily reach for my hands to help me up. I follow them and leave the living room to walk down a long hallway and down a narrow set of stairs to an unseen underground room.

As we walk I begin to see that it's more than a room, but practically a whole other house! The concrete floors are covered with a thick billowy carpet that runs along the entire basement. Large leather couches and chairs are placed in the first room and are guarded by more large bookcases that line the walls. A wide television is mounted against the wall and has a DVD player, Playstation 3, and X-box sitting casually underneath it. Caroline and the new stranger walk through the room and leave me gaping at the amazing furniture.

Caroline glances back to me, "Hinata," she childishly coos to me.

My attention snaps up to her and I shut my hanging mouth closed. I take a few steps towards her and clear my throat, "Where's Temari?" I ask, hoping that she too is ok.

The stranger comes forth and weaves her arms over one another as she sighs sadly, "She's gone," she tells me.

My brows crunch together in confusion as I try to make sense of what's being said. My eyes flutter closed for a moment as I fight to keep them open and face the two girls. My voice is hoarse as I struggle to speak, "what do you mean, she's gone?" I question.

Caroline's hands begin to work against her bare naked arms, forcing heat to keep the growing goosebumps she felt creeping along her forearm. Her head drops down low and her eyes meet with her toes that scrunch together as the other girl moves in behind her. She begins to stroke and pet her head, gently mumbling consoling phases to comfort her.

The teenage girl looks up to me now and frowns as she slowly removes her hands from Caroline's head. She strides over to me and takes my hand and leads me through the room and into another larger room that appears to be the girls' bedroom.

The room is huge, bigger than the entire space of the beach house above. There are many bunk beds and then a giant king size bed and a few queen sized ones as well. There is a giant closet in the back with long mirror doors that fold open when pulled apart. The walls, blankets, carpet and nightstands are white and the room is spotless, with everyone's bed made and pillows precisely fluffed to the right extent. Small floral lamps are a lit and the glow that radiates from them, lights the room with its soft touch.

Caroline pushes passed me and the girl and walks leisurely to the closet, opening the massive mirror doors and stepping inside when the automatic motion sensor light blinks on.

I stand waiting in the bedroom's doorway and watch as Caroline fishes through the clothes, fingering through the hung and folded outfits that sit stacked along the side in cubbies.

"I'm Samantha," the girl beside me says softly. I see that she's about sixteen years old or so, just old enough to be innocent yet seductively beautiful.

I look to her and beg with my eyes for an answer to all of this, to why I'm here, and to why Temari was taken from me. My lips quivers and cheeks sting with the rushing blood that is flowing through them and turning them pink. My clear vision becomes blurred with soon to be tears for what I know is true, but desperately don't want to hear.

Samantha glances to the side, refusing to meet my pathetic stare as she slowly inhales and then sighs again, attempting to prepare for what she has to say. "Temari is gone," she repeats again.

"But where has she gone to!" Anger suddenly wins over my budding fear and sadness, and attacks Samantha with its wrath.

Caroline pops her head out from the closet and looks at me with her wide mouse eyes. She scans me slowly and frowns as she begins to close the doors with an arm full of clothes for me to wear.

Samantha looks to me and scowls, "Kiba took her away," she says softly again, trying to ease me into everything.

My eyes burn with hot tears that begin to trickle down from the corners of my eyes and down my flushed face. I bite my lower lip and suddenly let go, "To where?! I can see she's gone but I want to know where she's gone to! I'm not stupid!" I shout to her, grabbing onto her shoulder and giving her a violent shake.

Samantha rips my hands away and pins them down by my side, "She's going to be sold!" she screams back at me.

My heart sinks into my chest as I slowly fall to my knees. I whimper and sob; the soft cries I make are the only sounds echoing in the room. Caroline places my clothes beside me and begins to take my shirt off. I don't fight her and I lift up my arms to help her better access me.

Samantha bends down to help her, "Hinata, I know you're sad," she says to me, "but this is how it is now." Her voice is soft as she frees the shirt from my head and begins to work on my bra as Caroline prepares the pink and blue flowered dress that I'm to wear.

Caroline begins to hum a gentle tune, "It's happened to all of us," she sings.

Samantha sighs and begins to wheedle me up to stand so she may strip me completely. I don't argue and rise, letting her undress me and un-snap the button on my jeans, taking everything off me and leaving me naked. Caroline un-folds the gown and hold it before me as she continues to sing softly.

Caroline seems pleased that I manage to look at the beach dress and judge it. It's white and peppered with fresh flowers that are graced with light pink petals that are hinted with brushes of baby blue at the bases around the yellow centers. Pale green leaves bud from the sides and are only centimeters apart from the partnering blossoms next to them. It seems thin and has skinny spaghetti straps that meet and tie behind my neck, meant to hold up the extremely low cut garment against my soon to be anemic figure. Jiraiya will want me to look like the rest of his little slaves, and I'll obey him like I was taught to.

I suddenly realize how I've moved again, to a new home with new people that I'll have to befriend. I wonder what the other girls will say about me. Will they gossip or reject me? What will Mother and Father say? They've had to have noticed by now that I'm gone. They love me and they'll come find me, they won't stop at anything till I'm safe at home. But what about Temari; will she be saved? I swallow dryly and hope and pray to God that she will be.

Samantha removes all my clothes and sighs again at my sad display, "Stand up straight," she says.

I obey and fix my shoulders back.

Caroline giggles sweetly, "Do you like it," she asks, referring to the dress. She jumps up and down a little and shakes the gown in my face. "It's mine," she exclaims, "but you can wear it."

My mouth forms into a fine line as my brows scrunch together in anger. My face turns a bright red as my body begins to shake and tremble. I want to scream at Caroline, yell at her and push her down onto the floor then punch her. I'm so enraged now that I must look like I want to kill her, and for no reason.

Before I'm able to turn and bitterly answer Caroline, Samantha grabs onto my shoulders and faces me back to her. "You're not getting out of here," she tells me, "we've all thought we had chances to be free. That maybe our parents will find us, or that our empty wallets will be discovered. It's useless!" Her voice is sharp as she smacks me in the face with reality. Her lavender eyes burn into me as they shake slightly, "You can either accept this life now," she says, "or make it hard for yourself. Which is it?"

My eyes are open now to the things around me as my mouth hangs open. I blink a few times and the tears finally stop flowing. My face becomes cool as I become numb to the space around me. I turn to Caroline, "Yes," I wheeze out, "the dress is beautiful."

She giggles and does a friendly dance with the dress. She brings it close, hugging it against her almost identical one and begins to ballroom dance around her bedroom; spinning and galloping around in bliss. As she comes back around to Samantha, she stops and giggles again.

Samantha reaches for the dress, "You know you're going to be Jiraiya's favorite," she tells me. "He loves your type."

_His type,_ she says. Kiba said that too. "And just what sort of type is that?" I weakly ask.

"You're like Caroline," she states, "born into a nice well bred life and then practically beaten into submission with your class and manners by society. You're polite and delicate and _corruptible_." As Samantha reaches above me with the dress in hand I see a dark purple mark along the inside of her arm; a heavy bruise with a light brown lining.

I sigh and let the fabric of the dress brush against my soft skin as she tugs it down over my head. This is my new life apparently. My shoulders shiver and Samantha urges the dress down and into the right place. Caroline works to tie the back around my neck as she lifts up my hair.

I meet eyes with Samantha once more as she begins to remove a pair of earrings my mother gave me, I know now that I'll never see them again. Samantha balls them into her palm and places them on a nearby nightstand.

Finished with her work, Caroline comes around to the front of me and grins again. With my senses in tune, I notice another bruise on Caroline's neck. Dark and violent with its ugly stare, I almost wanted to glare at it and tell it that Jiraiya will never break me, not now. I'm stronger now. I need to get out of here and save Temari; I can't rely on anyone else.

"He'll break you," Samantha whispers dryly.

I look to her with a blank expression, "What?" I stupidly ask.

She laughs at me and folds her arms over one another, "Caroline, go upstairs," she orders her. Caroline leaves and skips into the other room then up the narrow set of steps. Samantha gazes into my Opal eyes and sighs, "That little spark of_ bravery_ you just displayed," she mockingly says, "don't bother," she scoffs. "We all thought that we would be different and we would fight him, but we couldn't."

I feel myself growing smaller and smaller with each word she utters.

"Your friend is gone, your home is gone," she states rudely, "you're like the rest of us." Her words become more forceful with every syllable as she nears me, "Don't think that we love that crazy bastard, because we don't. We hate him." Samantha towers above me and shoves her face into mine, "That man took everything from me, just like he has from you," she yells, "so don't think that you can bust out of here and save the day; because you can't so accept it. You're weak like the rest of us!" Samantha's eyes burn dangerously, the way Temari's did.

I want to yell back at her, tell her she's wrong and that I can be saved and save Temari and her even if she'll let me. But I know it's no use; who am I kidding anyway? Little me fight against big Jiraiya? Yeah right.

Samantha sighs again and steps back from me, pinching the space between her eyes, "I'm sorry," she says gingerly, "I didn't mean to yell at you like that."

I swallow and adjust the straps of my new dress, "it's ok," I assure her; because it is. I understand that she's scared even after however many years she may have been here, she's still frightful of what may come to her. That bruise every girl is branded with gives her the right to be; and me as well. I just hope I can avoid tempting him to mark me with one too for as long as I can.

"But don't worry Hinata;" Samantha tells me, "I'll protect you."

My eyes widen and heart nudges to a halt. _I'll protect you_. Temari said that too, and now look what's happened to her. I don't want Samantha to protect me, endanger her that way I did Temari. Who knows what Jiraiya might do to her if she decides to step out of line for me?

I sniffle and use the back of my frail hand as a Kleenex, "it's ok," I mutter, "I can take care of myself."


End file.
